Black Night, White Light
by IseeButterfly
Summary: Cyberpunk!AU. In a country occupied and ruled by a military dictatorship, the Guardians, a young thief is just trying to provide for her family and survive under the brutal regime. When her sister dissapears from the hospital, she has no choice but to make a deal with one of her executioners, a Guardian with unfinished business, leading him deep into the city's underground network.
1. Prologue

_**Black Night, White Light**_

 **Summary: Cyberpunk!AU. In a country occupied and ruled by a military dictatorship, the _Guardians_ , a young thief is just trying to provide for her family and survive under the brutal regime. When her sister mysteriously dissapears from the hospital, she has no choice but to make a deal with one of her executioners, a Guardian with unfinished business, leading him deep into the city's underground network.  
**

 **Raffe/Penryn of course.**

 **Rated T for violence, language and adult themes.**

* * *

 ** _Prologue_**

 _Two years ago_

The smell of gunpowder hung in the air.

Not that that was anything exceptional. It had become a conventionality these last month, since the attacks had gotten more and more frequent.

 _The people are getting rebellious_ , Penryn thought. _The Guardians need to act._

She tried to ignore the consistent fear that always seemed to follow her around these days, a sort of foreboding feeling that welled up from inside her chest every now and then.

 _It doesn't matter_. _If they drop a bomb here now, you'll be powerless to stop it anyway._

"Stay close to me," she called over her shoulder to her mother and sister. They looked no less intimidated than she felt, their pale faces like beacons in the sea of brown colors around them. Brown clothes. Tanned skin. Dark dirt on every face that passed them. The southern district wasn't a place the Young family usually visited. Much less the black market. But they had no choice.

"And pull up your hoods."

They obeyed and despite the stifling heat, Penryn covered her own head with the dark cloth of her scarf, pulling the stiff fabric over her forehead and chin. It wasn't enough to mask her appearance, but at least a passing guard wouldn't immediately be able to make out her face. Though Penryn doubted that there were any guards in this place. And if there was one, they were all dead anyway.

Penryn reached back to take her sister's smaller hand in her own, making sure that her mother held onto the other side of the little girl. Taking a deep breath, she lead them into the dense crowd. They just needed to reach the small hut that sold and bought scrap metal and sell the clocks. Then they could leave. It couldn't take too long.  
She navigated her family through the narrow streets, throwing a glance back at them whenever her sister struggled to keep her footing on the wet cobblestone or coughed at the steam that hit them in the face. The steam seemed to come from , in the Southern District, where most of the industrial lots stood, it _was_ everywhere.

 _If the Guardians don't kill us first, we'll all die of lung poisoning in a few decades._

They passed a stand that claimed it was selling real Guardians' technology and weapons. Of course, citizens were prohibited to carry firearms of any kind to diminish the risk of an armed uprising – not that they'd ever stand a chance – yet many people carried a gun hidden away in the folds of their coats or tucked into their boots, anyway. It was simply safer in these part of the city. And if you ever got your hands on any Guardian technology, you could buy your family a whole year's worth of food.

"There it is," Penryn said with some relief and tugged her family toward a small tin shack on the side of the street.

Penryn doubted that the shed was large enough for all three of them, so she gestured to the to wait outside and ducked through the low doorway.

The inside wasn't as tiny as the outer appearance suggested, but it was still dark, damp and crowded, and she wanted nothing more than to get this over quickly and go home. A stocky man sat on a wooden box at the end of the hut, slouched over a table with various metallic objects on them. He looked up when she entered.

"Seller or shopper?"

Penryn cleared her throat. The stank of petrol and sweat made her eyes water. "Seller."

The man grunted. "What do you have?"

She let her bag drop from her shoulder and reached inside, pulling out one of the complicated clockworks her father had made before he left them. One of the few he hadn't taken with them. She handed it to the merchant. For a moment, his eyes widened in surprise, before he masked it with a fake mask of boredom.

"Hmm," he uttered, scratching his protruding belly.

 _How does one stay fat in a place like this?_ Penryn wondered.

"A broken watch, not of much use. Mediocre metal. I give you ten credits for it."

" _What?"_ Penryn had expected the merchant to offer a payment below value, but ten credits wouldn't even buy her little sister a decent meal. And she'd seen the man's face when he saw the clock. He recognized her father's handiwork. Before he left, taking almost all his possessions with him and leaving his family with half a dozen of broken clocks and no money, he'd been a somewhat well-known and somewhat wealthy watchmaker. Every single one of his watches brought in at least 200 credits.

"How many of those things do you have in that bag?" The merchant asked, as if he hadn't noticed her enraged reaction to his offer.

"Seven," she said through clenched teeth.

He grunted again. "I really don't know what I'm supposed to do with seven useless watches, but I'm in a good mood. I'll give you sixty credits for all of them."

Penryn was seething. She stared at the merchant, noticing his red, watery eyes, his wobbly chin, the way his shirt stretched over his belly. Where did he take the money for all the food that he seemed to stuff into his mouth? Couldn't he see that she and her family were practically starved?

"Every single one of those clocks is worth at least thirty credits. I'll give you all seven for 200 and no less, because _I'm_ in a good mood."

She bit her tongue. She was in no position to negotiate, and she knew it. Plus, angering a merchant of the black market could be a big mistake.

The man's face pulled into a grin. "200 credits for a bag of junk? You have a big mouth for such a little girl. I tell you what. You give me the clocks and an hour to find out what else you can do with that mouth of yours and you'll get your 200 credits."

The merchant rose up from his chair and came around the table. Fear welled up inside her chest again, but it wasn't as strong as the rage that rolled over her in waves.

"Excuse me, what did you say?"

"I said-"

She slammed the heel of her palm into his face. It was an instinctual move, one of self-preservation but also one of assertiveness, and it would either show this thug that she was not to be messed with, or cost her much more than a few lousy credits. She heard bone crunch as his nose broke, blood welling up under her hand. He stumbled back, bumping into the table behind him and knocking it over. Metal spilled over the floor.

The man swore and covered his face with his hand to try and stop the blood, but made no move to advance on her. At least not anytime soon. It was as Penryn had suspected. Fat and lazy. There was no doubt that he could get in some pretty bad hits should he attack her, but she was a good fighter and he'd have his hands full with her – and not in the way he wanted.

Penryn looked around and spotted an open tin box on one of the other tables, stuffed with violet bills. Credits. She walked over to it, not turning her back on the merchant, and pulled out four 50-credits bills.

"200 really is too little for these clocks and you know it," she said to the man on the floor. "I suggest you accept the deal and leave it at that."

With that she dropped the bag on the ground and turned, leaving the hut. The merchant made no move to follow her.

Outside, she was met with the worried faces of her family. No doubt they'd heard the noise from inside.

"What happened?" her mother asked.

"It doesn't matter. I sold the clocks for 200 credits. Now let's get out of-"

It felt like a blow to her chest, but infinitely more powerful. While she flew backwards, crashing into the hut behind her with such force that the skew tin construction collapsed on top of her, Penryn wondered for a second if the merchant had finally decided to attack her. But she immediately knew that that wasn't it. It hadn't been anything solid that touched her. It took her a few moments to come out of her daze. She blinked, her eyesight blurry.

Over the ringing in her ears she heard the explosion – the second one, that is – and muffled screams, as if her ears were filled with gauze.

 _If they drop a bomb here now –_

 _If the drop a bomb here now –_

 _Drop a bomb. Here. Now._

A bomb.

Penryn struggled to come to her senses. Her entire back hurt, and her left arm felt numb, but she managed to struggle out of the heap of metal planes that she lay in.

"Paige? Mom?" she screamed. The smell of gunpowder was sickeningly strong now, smoke obscuring her surroundings. Apparitional shapes moved through the smoke, and she stumbled to two silhouettes close to her right with a pounding heart.

"Penryn!" It was her mother's voice, the desperate, helpless panic in it, that finally ripped her out of her trance. Her mother was standing a few steps away from her, slumped over, and at her feet lay… lay-

"NO!" Penryn fell to her knees in front of her sister's limp body. "Paige? Paige, can you hear me?"

Hectically, she pressed two fingers against her sister's neck, searching for a pulse. Behind her, her mother began wailing.

"She's alive," Penryn gasped out, feeling the faint throbbing under her fingers. "She's alive."

Her mother's wailing didn't stop. Penryn threw her a quick glance to make sure that she wasn't hurt – physically at least – then carefully scooped Paige into her arms and got up. "We have to get out of here."

For a moment her mother didn't move. Penryn didn't know what she would do if she didn't come along. With Paige in her arms, she had no way to drag her mother behind her and getting her sister to safety was her first priority. But after a moment, her mother turned and followed her. Together, they made their way through the charred alleys, trying not to step onto the bodies of the injured or dead that lay in the street.

* * *

 **I'm finally publishing this. The idea for this has been sitting in my head for such a long time. I started working on this story a while ago, but it took some time to work out the plot and world and get some basic work down. I'm a huge Cyberpunk fan, and I would love to see the characters of Angelfall in a dark and gritty futuristic setting. I said it's a Cyberpunk AU, though it's strictly speaking going more for a Dieselpunk direction, but same difference.  
This is going to be a longer story, and I hope you find the concept somewhat interesting. **

**Please let me know what you think!**

 **~K.**


	2. Now

_**Now** _

Even in the more noble parts of the city, grime clung to the brick walls. It was the constant smoke that wafted through the streets, making the buildings sticky with coal and dust. Now, the black residue that covered her palms played to Penryn's advantage. She dragged her hands down the brick wall in front of her, then wiped them across her face, darkening her pale skin. She had no mirror, but she was certain that the grime would do its job. Getting dirty wasn't difficult in this city.

She checked her wristwatch. The last patrol had been 13 minutes ago. That would mean she'd have at least half an hour until the next one. It was unlikely that there were two curfew patrols within 45 minutes in this part of the city, where the people were wealthy and the incline for a riot was low.

Her target was a jewelry shop around the corner. It was located on the main street, but the surveillance cameras on the street were rotating in a way that would give her a time window of 78 seconds to open the door and get in without being detected. More than enough time for her. She'd take just a few pieces, nothing flashy and nothing the shop owner would miss anytime soon, but just enough to pay Paige's latest hospital bill.

Penryn dragged a hand down her tired face. There had been a time when she'd still had hope that Paige would recover from her injuries, but by now she knew that that wouldn't be the case. Her sister would never walk again. And her medical care would only get more expensive.

 _Focus_ , she told herself.

She tugged the dark hood of her cloaked coat over her head and was just about to dart around the corner when she heard the roaring engine of a motorcycle approaching. Penryn flinched back and pressed herself against the wall with a pounding heart. A second later, the motorcycle raced past the alley. From her position against the wall, Penryn could watch it recede with a rapid pace. It appeared to be a power cruiser, its rider in dark gear, face masked by a black helmet. He was too far away for her to make out any details, but she was certain she would find the emblem of the Guardians on his helmet from up close. They had the technology and the resources to equip their people with vehicles like that. Plus, who else would dare to so blatantly disobey the curfew?

But this wasn't a patrol or a common guard. Those used vans or Light Strike Vehicles.

Fear pierced Penryn's lungs. Why would they send a higher-up here? And _why_ did it have to be the one night that she was out? If a Guardian caught her about to commit theft, she was done for. And she fancied her hands too much to have them cut off. But she needed the money, and she needed it _now._ If they didn't pay those hospital bills piling at home, Paige would no longer receive medical care.

Before Penryn had time to make a decision, a loud bank followed by a screeching sound down the street ripped her from her thoughts. She bit back a startled yelp as she saw the biker flying from his motorcycle, which slithered several feet further until it came to rest. It's rider crashed against a brick wall and slumped down into a lifeless heap, probably dead. Smoke erupted all over the street, it's source unknown. Judging by the loud bang she'd heard, though, it was likely that a minor explosion had gone off. And it was unlikely that the Guardian had been hit by accident.

Penryn's heart began racing. An attack on one of the government's higher-ups? A riot?  
Whatever it was, it was bad. If anybody found her at such a scene, she would lose more than her hands.

Penryn pressed herself tighter against the wall and observed the scene, not daring to move. For a few moments, there was absolute silence, the dense fumes soundlessly billowing through the air, obscuring the view. Then, four figures stepped out of an alley. Only their dark silhouettes were visible against the white smoke. They all appeared to be tall and well-built, though one dwarfed the others in height and bulkiness.

Incredibly, the biker rolled himself onto his stomach and pushed himself up. Penryn gaped. It was a miracle he was still conscious after that crash, let alone able to stand. Maybe the fall had looked worse than it actually was?

"Always prepared for a fight, huh, Raphael? Is that why you're one of the _best_?"

The voice, deep, male and filled with malice, carried over to where she was hiding, and the fact that neither the biker, nor any of the attackers seemed to bother with hiding their presence outside after curfew frightened Penryn more than the anything else. Street gangs fighting or violent riots weren't unusual. A group of government people attacking another Guardian in the middle of a street _was_.

The biker let out a growl and crouched into a fighting stance. Even from this distance, Penryn could see the way his body tensed, ready for battle.

"You need four men to take one down? That's prove enough why you're not." As he talked, he looked around, as if searching for something. His gaze fell on a small object a few feet away from him on the ground, which looked vaguely like a rifle.

"Always one to talk big. Hold onto to that arrogance. It will be the only thing you have left once we're done with you."

Bulky made a gesture and the other three advanced on the cornered man, moving in for the kill. Before they could attack, though, the biker beat them to it. He launched himself at one of the men, swiftly bringing him to the ground. In a flash, he was up again and blocked a hit with his forearm. He was fast and strong, but he was outnumbered and though he held himself surprisingly well, especially given his injuries, his attackers got in a few serious hits. One of them brutally rammed a foot into the back of his leg and he crashed to his knee, taking a mean blow to the jaw. Penryn almost winced. She had no sympathy for any Guardian, but she was in no mood to watch an execution.

"Why bother with all this?" the biker spat out, struggling against the brutal hold of the men. "Why not just shoot me?"

Bulky, who had watched the fight passively, laughed briskly. "It's not about killing you, Raphael. I want you to tell me where he is!"

The man on the ground grunted as he was pushed on the ground forcefully. "How the hell am I supposed to know that?"

"Don't play dumb. You're a member of the senate. You're in the _council_. And you're part of his little elite pet project. The poster child. If anyone knows him, it's you."

The biker actually had the nerve to laugh. "What are you playing at? You think if you bring him to Uriel he'll take you in? You were rejected, Beliel, accept that."

The bulky man – Beliel? – roared with anger, striding over to the man on the ground and swiftly kicking him in the side. The biker hissed in pain and Penryn could practically hear the bones breaking. She was sure the man was as good as done for now, but incredibly, the attack seemed to have given him new energy, because he began struggling in earnest, managing to kick off two of his attackers. A fight erupted, everything happening too fast and too far away for Penryn to track. Then, a gunshot was fired and the biker crumbled to the floor with a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. The man called Beliel stood above him, pointing a gun at him.

"Look at where you are now, Raphael. All that talk of elite and high ranks. Now you're lying in the dirt like a beat up dog. And you'll be put down like one. How does that feel?"

"Just pull the trigger, Beliel. Save me the hassle of having to listen to your pathetic spiel."

Penryn shut her eyes. She'd seen her fair share of death and destruction at the tender age of seventeen, but it definitely wasn't a sight she was getting used to. The last thing she wanted to be added to the things that hunted her in her nightmares was a Guardian's brains scattered across a wall.

Suddenly, she heard wheels on cobblestone, and the sound of a roaring engine coming from behind her.

She opened her eyes just in time to see a patrol van turn into the alley two blocks behind her. It was still a couple hundred feet away, taking its usual zigzag route between alleys, but Penryn wasn't sticking around to let it catch her. Unfortunately, since it was coming right at her and she was hiding in an alley with a dead end on one of its sides, the only way she could go was forward. Which meant closer to the group of Guardians. But she had no alternatives. Today was officially the worst day of her life.

She waited until the vehicle turned into the alley at the left, then darted out of her hideout and sprinted across the street, praying to the heavens that the Guardians were too busy with their fight to notice her. Where should she go? Where could she hide where the Guardians and the patrol wouldn't notice her right away? The best she could come up with was a container at the corner of the alley in front of her, still a block away from the fighting group. She sped up and pushed herself off the ground in the last second, jumping into the container in the hopes that it wasn't filled with sharp-edged metal waste.

There were no razor edges to cut open her skin, but it appeared that she had landed in industrial waste, as her surroundings – and now herself – were slick with oil and diesel. Well, as long as the Guardians didn't find her, she wasn't complaining. She pressed herself against the container wall and listened closely.

Outside, the sounds of fighting had stopped. Penryn heard footsteps, calm, unhurried, and then the sound of something being kicked across the street.

"Well, Raphael, it seems you are in luck." That was the voice of Beliel, the apparent leader of the group. He sounded displeased, yet nonchalant. "The patrol wasn't supposed to be here sooner than fifteen minutes from now. Otherwise I'd be wiping the floor with you now."

"We should go. They mustn't see us." That voice was new, heavy with the typical thick, dark accent that most Guardians had.

"Alright. Take the cruiser with you. And his emblems. If they think he's one of them, they'll leave him here to die."

The group receded quickly, their feet pounding against the cobblestone and a moment later the motorcycle was started and followed them. When Penryn couldn't hear them anymore, some of her anxiety faded. Sure, there was still probably one of the bastards lying on the street a few feet away from her, and a patrol was fast approaching, but four or five Guardians were better than ten.

She knew it was stupid, but against her better judgement, she peeked over the edge of the container, taking in her surroundings. A block away from her, the biker was still laying motionlessly on the street, , face down. Probably dead. The patrol was on the other side of her, turning into the alley before hers. If she was quick, she could still make it out before they even passed her. She looked at the street again, trying to estimate the distance. That's when she saw the rifle.

It lay a few feet away from her, right in front of the container, its black metal gleaming in the dim street light, almost beckoning her. It was what the rider had looked for earlier. Penryn's heart was pounding. This gun was beyond street soldier gear, bigger, sleeker-looking and probably more advanced. Weapons were worth hundredth of credits on the black market, and Guardian technology – if you could prove that it was real – even more so. And this... She had no idea if she'd ever seen a gun of this caliber on the market. This thing could pay her sister's hospital bills for the next three years.

The engine got louder again. The van was coming back. Any second now it would turn back onto the main street and the patrol would find the rifle and take it with them, and with it Paige's best shot at medical care. There was no time for thinking.

Penryn hauled herself out of the container, momentarily loosing balance as her oil dripping boots slipped on the cobblestone. She regained her footing and sprinted across the street, bending down and swooping up the gun without stopping. It was surprisingly heavy, and the grip felt smooth in her hand. A second later, she had reached the alley across from her and sped up, aiming to get at least ten blocks between her and the patrol until she would give herself a break. Adrenaline was pumping through her body, making her run longer and faster than she normally could have.

She found an escape route in form of a pipeline down the side of a building. She swung the rifle on her back and jumped, gripping the pipe with her hands and feet. She was small and petit, which was a disadvantage in one-on-one fights, but it also made her lithe and nimble when it came to running and climbing. It was what made her so good at stealing things.

She reached the flat roof with ease and climbed up, hauling herself to her feet in one move. She kept running, making her way over the roofs toward home.

She didn't stop until she was deep in the southern district again.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Miss, but you have no authorization to see this patient."

"What are you talking about?" Penryn resisted the urge to slam her fist on the counter. She doubted that the nurse, a gaunt woman with graying hair, would take that very well. "Paige is my sister. I've visited her every day for the past two weeks. This is her third stay in this hospital in one year. Since when don't I have authorization to see her anymore?"

"Well, authorization status for Paige Young have been changed. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you."

"You won't even tell me what that's supposed to mean! She's paraplegic, she doesn't have an infectious disease. So what's going on here? Why the secretiveness all of sudden?

Something flickered in the woman's eyes, something akin to anxiety, even fear. It made Penryn's stomach drop and alarm bells go off in her head. Something was wrong.

"Miss, I won't say it again. You are not authorized to see this patient. Now, please leave the hospital ground, or I'll have security escort you out."

Something was _very_ wrong.

This woman was desperate to get her out of here, no questions asked.

"Alright," Penryn said, holding up her hands in a sign of placation. "I'm going."

And she was. She just wasn't going home. There were more ways to her sister's room than just this corridor. She took a route around the first floor, slipping into the staff stairwell and up to the sixth floor, where her sister's room was. She'd broken into heavily surveilled mansions and jewelry shops without detection. A patient's room in a dingy lower-class hospital shouldn't be a problem.

And it wasn't. No one paid attention to her as she strolled down the corridor to her sister's room. Looking as casually as possible, she put her hand on the handgrip, half expecting the door to be locked. But one push and the door sprang open easily.

The small hospital room was crammed full of shabby beds, half a dozen in total, every single one of them occupied. Except the one on the far left. Except her sister's. The other children, engaged in chipper conversation, fell silent when they saw her.

Penryn stepped closer to Paige's bed. It was unmade, the sheets ruffled, as if Paige had just gotten up. Her name tag was still on the footboard.

"Where is she?" Penryn asked, looking around at the small faces that had become familiar to her during her previous visits. No one answered, but there it was again. That flicker in the children's eyes, now obviously fear. Even more so, some of them seems outright terrified.

"Where is Paige? What happened?"

Silence. Two girl's exchanged anxious glances and Penryn quickly strode over to them. "Do you know something? Has her condition worsened? Is it because our pay was delayed? What… what do you know? Anything?"

A small girl with reddish hair cleared her throat. "They said she's under quarantine. The she… she caught an infection."

"An infection? Why wouldn't they tell me that?"

The girl didn't answer. For a moment, no one said a word. Then another one spoke up, who Penryn recognized as one of Paige's friends. The poor thing was here since six month. God knew how her parents managed to pay for the stay.

"She's the fifth one in two months. And that's just this ward. Before, there was never anyone taken into quarantine. Now, it's happening on a regular basis. Maybe… maybe there's some kind of outbreak."

The other kids paled even more. They probably feared that they had caught something, whatever that was supposed to be, from Paige.

"That's ridiculous! I just saw Paige yesterday and she was fine! _She was fine!_ " The girl flinched and Penryn realized that she had raised her voice. She took a deep breath. "I mean, thank you for telling me. I… I'm going to talk to the nurse."

With that she left. She wasn't actually going to talk to the nurse. Nobody would tell her anything more than the previous one did. No one would tell her anything. She tried to quench the panic boiling up inside her. Paige was gone. Under quarantine. And everyone avoided talking about it, like they'd catch the plague from just saying the words. What was going on? Where was her sister?

Penryn walked back home like in trance, hardly noticing where she went. She had no idea what to do now. Who could help her? She couldn't count on her mother. She was buried in her chemical waste, slowly declining as her condition worsened and her self-afflicted addiction grew.

Penryn would be grateful if she even knew what was going on. She stopped, only now realizing that she was already back in the southern district, just a few blocks away from home. How she'd managed to miss the transition from the relatively clean, moderate city center to the dirty, smoggy hellhole that was the southern district was a miracle to her. She shook her head, trying to clear her senses.

Too late she noticed another presence behind her.  
Her body realized it before her mind did, muscles tensing up, readying for a fight. But it was too late. Someone grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around, pushing her against the wall, a hand clamped over her mouth.

She elicited a muffled cry, though no one would care about a scream for help, not here. She looked up at her attacker, finding deep blue eyes glaring down at her. She struggled against her captor, but he didn't budge.

"Well," he hissed, the angry tone of his voice registering in some subconscious part of her brain. ( _Impossible. How is he not dead?)_

"Hello there."

* * *

 **Well, there you have it, the first chapter.  
**

 **One of my reviews said that they didn't really know what Cyberpunk is, so just in case there are a few people that don't know and are too lazy to use Google, Cyberpunk is a subgenre of Sci-Fi, usually taking place in a dark and gritty dystopian future world (think Bladerunner or Matrix) and focusing on advanced technology, military governments, suveillance society and an overall very dark and pessimistic view of the future. Think of it as the Film Noir of Sci-Fi. There is also the common use of genetical engeneering (so any manipulation of genes and biomatter). My AU actually leans more into the genre of Dieselpunk as well (which is pretty much the same, just with a more "second world war" look and a higher focus on dieselrun engines). If you are still confused, just look up Google Images of Cyberpunk and Dieselpunk. The images will give you an idea of the atmosphere of the genre, though I hope that my story and worldbuilding will do that as well.  
**

 **Please don't be a ghost reader and let me know what you thought!**

 **~K.**


	3. Combustible

**I know, I know, it's been some weeks. And that after I said I would try to update on a regular basis. I actually had this chapter finished for some time, but I just never editted it. It's so much more fun to keep writing and stockpiling chapters (so that I can update regularly, I know, they hypocrisy) than to go back and edit. I'll promise that updates will come more frequently again and that I won't make a habit out of it. I hope you forgive me. If anything, this chapter is quite long.**

* * *

 _Combustible_

Penryn struggled against the hands pinning her to the wall once more, before changing tactic and kicking the man's shin. He grunted, though more in annoyance than in actual pain.

"Don't. I'm not in the mood to play games."

He took his hand from her mouth and put it on her forehead instead, pushing her head back against the wall. " _Where is it_?"

She didn't bother replying. She brought her knee up, aiming for his groin, but he effortlessly twisted out of the way, his hold never relenting.

"I said stop it. And answer my question!" His voice was thick with rage.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" She stopped struggling, deciding not to waste energy on fruitless fighting. She'd save it for when she was in a more advantageous position.

" _My rifle_ ," he hissed. "Don't play dumb, little girl. You stole it. Did you really think I wouldn't find you? Are you really that stupid?"

"To be honest, I didn't think you were anything anymore. You looked pretty dead." Her words dripped with hatred. This man was part of the nation that had invaded her country and was currently occupying it, enslaving its entire nation, all under the arrogant proposition of ' _freeing them from their misery of nescience_ '. He was scum and he was evil. And though she was aware that he could kill her without any consequences, or worse, put her entire family through hell just with his political influence, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. He didn't have to know that she was terrified.

He laughed coldly. "That just goes to show that thinking isn't exactly your people's strength."

Rage welled up inside of her. She spat at him. For a moment, he looked like he was going to kill her right on the spot, and she couldn't stop herself from shrinking back. He really had a fierce glare. But then, he simply switched his hold, pushing his forearm against her throat, effectively pinning her against the wall and cutting off her air at the same time. He wiped his face with his free hand.

"Alright, let's cut this short. Give me back my rifle, and I'll let you live. Don't and I'll snap you in half before you know it."

He let off some of the pressure, just enough to allow her to take in shallow breaths.

She was going to die, then. There was no way around it. Though she was filled with terror, she managed to force out a wheezy laugh. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

His eyes narrowed and he leaned down, closer to her. "And why is that?"

Penryn steeled herself for her imminent death. Deep down she'd always known that the Guardians would kill her, whether through a bomb or a street soldier. But she was surprised that it was actually a one-on-one kill. Oh well, same difference. "Because I sold it already. By now, it's gone through half a dozen's intermediaries' hands. And since I had all tracers removed, I doubt you'll ever be able to find it again."

She saw murder in his eyes and knew that she would die. He'd break her neck right here. But then, he pushed himself away from her, hands balling into fists.

"Do you have any idea how much that thing is worth? More than your primitive, little brain can understand. And you sell it on some pathetic, stinking black market…"

He seemed to think for a moment, then turned back to her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Bring me to the dealer you sold it to. Apparantly even you had enough intelligence to remove the tracker, since the signal stopped transmitting this morning, so I'll have no choice but to track it manually."

Penryn suppressed the impulse to spit on him again. Just feeling his touch on her made her skin crawl with fear. She'd never been this close to a Guardian before. And he was certainly daunting, with his towering height and muscular build. "I'd rather die than tell you one name of someone working at the black market."

His grip on her chin tightened. "That would be your alternative."

Her stomach contracted in terror, making her feel nauseous. But then, a thought came to her mind, drowning out everything else.

"What do you know about a quarantine?"

" _What_?"

"A quarantine. Children have been taken from the hospital. I've been told they were put into quarantine. What's going on. Has there been some kind of outbreak?"

He looked at her, anger mixing with incredulousness. "Who do you think is asking the questions here? The only reason you're not dead yet is my rifle."

Despite the uncomfortable position against the wall he had her in, Penryn managed to cross her arms, mustering up the last reserves of her defiance. "Well, if that piece of crap is so precious to you, you better start answering, because I won't tell you anything unless you give me the information I want."

He cocked his head to the side, irritated, gauging her coldly. "I know of no quarantine. Your soft nation's health concerns are none of my interests."

Penryn held his stare without shrinking back, less afraid now. Her focus was on her baby sister, and on gathering as much information about her whereabouts as possible, no matter the price. She forced herself to look into his eyes, trying to find out if he was telling the truth. His gaze was hard and impenetrable as steel.

"Someone at the hospital told me that there's been children taken away since two months, under the claim of some infection they caught. If your government imposes a quarantine, wouldn't you know of it?"

He frowned, looking annoyed. "I would, though it's nothing that I care for. But I'm tired of this question and answer. Just give me the name and I'll let you live another day."

"Just a matter of time before another one of you bastards kills me."

"Well, now you're just pulling at my heartstrings. Nothing is more important to me than the safety of the scum."

Slowly, her fear was being replaced by anger, hot and seething in her veins. "Well, that scum is in possession of your precious rifle, so at least one of us might be able to shoot back."

She didn't understand what was the deal with that thing anyway. Why didn't he just get a new one?

He let go of her chin and took a step back, raking a hand through his short dark hair. Halfway through the motion he winced and dropped his arm. That was when Penryn realized that he must've still been badly injured from the accident and the brutal fight that happened only one night ago. Thinking about it, it was a miracle that he was even standing here right now. Hadn't he been shot?

"Why do you have such a desire to die? Or is it stupid loyalty to some merchant that holds you back? You don't seem very good at keeping your tongue in check, otherwise."

Penryn chewed on her bottom lip, thinking through her options. This Guardian was her best – and only – shot at getting confidential information, data she couldn't even dream of obtaining even with the best hackers on her side. And a quarantine could only be imposed by the government, so there _had_ to be some data about her sister's whereabouts and well-being.

"Even if I gave you the name, that would never be enough. Like I said, by now, your rifle will have passed several middle man. You would have to chase it down through the entire underground infrastructure, and there's no way a Guardian could do so without alarming every emergency protocol that these people have. You think they'll let a government person snoop around in their world? Or any outsider for that matter? If you don't know the right names and codes, you'll get nothing but a bullet to the head. I suspect even you can't survive that."

The Guardian cast her a sideway glance. "And you know the names and codes?"

She shrugged. "I know some of them."

With one step, he was back in her face, reminding her of her physical inferiority. "Great. I'll find you a paper and pen and you can write them down."

Penryn steeled herself. The last years, she'd learned the hard way that the only way to earn respect and get what you want in a place, where everyone's stronger and meaner than you, is to not let them push you around. Better take a jab to the jaw or a broken bone than show a thug or a merchant that you are too afraid to stand up for yourself.

So she put a hand on his shoulder – making sure that it was the injured one – and forced him back with a determined push of her hand. He winced in pain as the heel of her hand dug into his wound and took a reflexive step back. There it was, the scowl she had anticipated, the promise of certain death in his eyes. It was a risk she would have to take in order to make him take this serious.

Before he could threaten or curse her, she spoke up, "I don't think you understand, even though I already told you twice. I won't give you any information, if you don't return the favor."

A muscle jumped in his cheek, but his voice was calm and slow, as if he was talking to a little kid. "I already told you that I know nothing of a quarantine."

"But you have the means to find out about it! I don't think it would be hard for you to look up a patient's file. And that's all I'm asking!"

"Why should I do that? Seems like an awful lot of work just to get one name from you."

Penryn tried not to let his condescending tone rile her up. She couldn't lose her temper now. "I already told you that it's not just one name you'll need. I've seen the motorcycle you used. You're no street patrol. You're higher up. So I'll doubt that you know the streets or the underground infrastructure you're about to venture into. They'll notice that you're not one of them immediately and then you'll never get your stupid gun back. But _I_ know about it! I've been operating on the black market for years now, enough to be known amongst most faces and know my way around. If you're with me, no one will suspect you're government. Plus, I might actually be able to track down the route your rifle took, since I'm the one that brought it onto the market."

He watched her during her little speech, almost as if revising his assessment of her. "You do realize that you just admitted half a dozen crimes to a Guardian? I could have your hands cut off for this and a bullet through your head afterwards."

At this, she actually scoffed. "As if you couldn't do that anyway. A Guardian's word against mine? Even if I had a clean slate, you could have me killed and my family arrested without problems. So let's move past the phase in which I pretend to be a dutiful citizen that doesn't hate every single one of you stinking bastards and get to business."

At that he raised a brow arrogantly. "Big words from a small girl. I've definitely never been offered a business deal from a tiny thing half my size before."

"I don't think you have many alternatives. I don't know what that attack last night was about, but since you're here and not back with your Guardian buddies, I suspect you're on your own right now."

His eyes bore into hers and she held his glare until he finally blew out a hard breath and took a step back. "Bring me to the merchant you sold the gun to. Get me on the right track. I'll think about that little deal after I've gotten a picture of the situation myself."

"How do I know you will keep word? What if I bring you to the merchant and you betray our deal? There's no reason I could ever trust you."

"You said yourself that knowing one merchant's name won't do me much good. If I feel like your help could still be valuable after you've brought me to him, we have a deal."

Penryn clenched her jaw, but nodded. That was good enough for her.

"Alright, where is he?"

She pushed herself off the wall. "We can't seek him out now. It's almost night, the black market will close soon. Curfew, remember?"

He sighed, as if the curfew that his own damn people imposed was somehow her fault. "Fine. Tomorrow then."

Penryn nodded slowly. "We should probably get you new clothes." She took in his black gear. "You're not wearing any emblems or something, but you would draw attention in such professional gear anyway."

She started walking and he followed her. "Alright."

She looked back at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you. I thought you said I needed new clothes?" The lazy arrogance in his voice made an angry flush rise up in her face. Plus, the thought of a Guardian in her home didn't exactly make her feel comfortable. Although she supposed that it didn't matter anyway. He could easily access all the data there was about her, including where she lived, what she did and who her family was. And she was almost certain that his wounds hadn't properly been taken care of. He was no use to her if he died from an infection before he could help her.

"Fine. Come with me. We can stay at my place for the night. My father's old clothes should fit you. " She hesitated, then pulled her thick dark wool cloak off and threw it at him. "Pull that over your head. It should at least hide your gear a little bit."

He draped the cloak over himself, pulling the hood into his face. On her, the cloak reached almost to her ankles. On him, it stopped about mid-thigh. It looked okay though, and a least hid his gear partly.

"That works, I guess," she said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Penryn constantly worried about someone noticing the unusually tall and well-build man she was travelling with. People in this district weren't exactly gaining weight in these last years. _Maybe they'll think he's a street fighter_ , she thought to herself.

They made it to her apartment without any incidents. Her family lived on the highest floor of a narrow building that was crammed between two other high-rises, all equally worn-down and ugly. All fire ladders, that twined up the front of the buildings like brass skeletons, were pulled up to prevent street gangs or thugs from taking the easy way in. Not that that would really stop any of them.

Penryn punched in the code for the entrance door and stepped into the dim corridor. The Guardian had to duck his head as he stepped through the door.

"We have to take the stairs," she said when he approached the elevators. "That thing stopped working a good decade ago."

They climbed the stairs up to the seventh floor, where her mom's apartment was. Penryn through a glance back over the shoulder at the Guardian. Despite his injuries, he wasn't even out of breath.

"Well, there we are," she muttered as they approached the door and she typed in the second code. She felt oddly embarrassed to show her family's tiny, worn-down apartment to him. He was probably used to living in pure luxury, surrounded by spacious rooms and expensive furniture. She mentally kicked herself for thinking that way. Their luxury came from invading and occupying other countries, and stealing from them. None of it was rightfully theirs.

She pushed the door open harder than she intended. A sour smell hit them from inside. Penryn coughed as she inhaled, the air feeling hot in her lungs. Her mother was apparently home.

She strode into the cramped living room, the Guardian on her heels, and pulled off her coat. She awkwardly turned to him, wondering if she should say something.  
Before she could come up with anything that didn't involve words of welcome – because he certainly wasn't welcome in her home – a door to her right slammed open. Sour-smelling steam poured out of the room that her mother used as a laboratory. A scrawny woman in a stained lab coat staggered out of the room, looking like a ghost on stimulants. Skin waxy, eyes wild but unfocused, an almost indiscernible tremor running through her bony body. Penryn didn't know what she'd taken, but it was obvious that she was on medication again.

"Mom, what are you on?"

"I'm so much closer now, Penryn!" Her mother spoke faster than normal, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "I think I almost got it."

Penryn wanted to point out that she said that every time, from the day she started mixing her own drugs and meds in order to find something to help Paige, every time that she tested a would-be cure on herself, claiming that this one was finally a breakthrough. Her mother had been a pharmacist before the country was invaded and occupied, a somewhat reputable woman with a stable income. But with the Guardian's advanced technology and science, a pharmacist of her level had become obsolete in this new world. They'd still made small money on the side by selling drugs and meds on the black market, until that day Paige got injured and her mother became obsessed with finding a cure. For _what_ was another question. With no money to pay for expensive medical treatment, the best the hospital had done was extract as much shrapnel from Paige's spine as possible and keep her alive until she was out of danger. All her family's money went to pain treatment, with nothing left to even get a proper diagnosis on her condition. But her mother had made her own diagnosis. Penryn didn't really know what it was, nor would she understand if she told her, but so far the breakthrough hadn't happened. And with her mother's self-tests inflaming a proper drug addiction, she doubted it ever would. Penryn's voice had long become one of many that her mother heard.

"That's great, mom," Penryn said carefully, steadying her mother with one arm. She peeked over her shoulder, making sure nothing was in flames inside the makeshift lab. "But maybe you should call it quits for today? You seem exhausted."

"How was Paige?" her mother interrupted, ignoring her words.

Penryn's stomach churned, sending bile up her throat. She swallowed hard to keep the nausea at bay. "She was fine," she pressed out, tasting her own lie acidly on her tongue.

"Did you bring her the meds I made?"

Penryn felt the presence of the Guardian behind her, making her back prickle. She supposed it was as she'd said; it didn't really matter what he knew, he could frame her for any crime he wanted. But she still didn't need him to hear all the illegal things her family was involved in. Theft, arms trade and now drug trafficking. Why not show him her lock pick skills next and tell him about all the residents and shops she'd broken into?

She nodded mechanically, terrified that her mother would continue with the questions. If there was one thing she was horrible at, it was lying. And no matter how drugged and delusional her mother might was, she wasn't stupid. If she caught on that something was wrong, there would be no stopping her.

"Alright, mom, I'm pretty tired, I'm going to go sleep. Um…" she threw a glance over her shoulder at the Guardian, who looked painfully out of place in their dirty little apartment. "That's a… friend of mine." She almost choked on the words. "He's going to stay here for the night. We have to do… school work."  
God, she _was_ bad at lying.

Apparently he thought so too, because she caught him snorting before she turned back to her mother. "Yes, yes, work," her mom murmured distractedly, counting off something from her fingers. Penryn wasn't sure she'd even noticed the other person in the room. "I think two would be enough…" her mother trailed off.

"Right… Come on." Penryn motioned to the Guardian to follow her. She led him into her bedroom, which was just big enough for her parent's old double bed, a desk and a drawer. She wasn't big on decorations, but the place was stuffed anyway. Loot, lock pick sets, knives, books, all strewn around the floor, desk and bed. She pushed the scramble off her bed and sat down, yanking off her boots with a sigh. The Guardian pulled out her chair and sat down, stretching out his legs.

"Um… I'm gonna use the bathroom," Penryn murmured, feeling stupid the moment she said it. Glad to be alone for a few moments, she took her time in the bathroom, rinsing the grime off her hands and slapping cold water into her face. It was the closest to a refreshment she'd get tonight.

When she finally came back into her bedroom, she almost yelped. The Guardian had taken his armor and shirt off, and was examining a nasty looking bullet wound in his shoulder. "Wha… what are you doing?"

He looked up at her, the hint of a teasing smile playing around his mouth as he took in her flustered expression. His voice was neutral, however, when he answered. "I'm checking the bullet wound. I didn't have time to properly clean it, yet."

Having gotten over the initial shock of seeing a shirtless Guardian in her bedroom – and though she would never admit it out loud, he definitely wasn't unpleasant to look at – Penryn chewed on her lip, deciding whether to help him or not. Oh, well. She needed him alive and well if he was to help her with her sister.

"Hold on," she said. "I think I can help you with that."

She strode out of the room and into the kitchen, where she gathered disinfectant, bandages, a bowl of hot water and some pain killers. The good thing that came with being the daughter of a pharmacist was a much easier access to med supplies. She carried the supplies back to her bedroom and dropped them onto her desk.

"Let me have a look."

He looked up at her, seeming to decide whether to accept her help or not. She was almost sure he'd decline, when he gave a curt nod.  
Penryn leaned down and inspected the wound, carefully prying at the skin with her fingers. "I'd looks like the bullet is still inside," she marveled, incredulous that he'd managed to go for over twelve hours with an open, untreated bullet wound. And he'd managed to overpower her with it, too.

"Like I said, I didn't have the time to examine it yet."

"Alright, I'm going to get it out."

" _You_ will?"

Her mouth thinned into a line. "Yes, _I_ will. Unless you'd like to try it yourself with one hand and no view of the wound."

He inclined his head. "Alright, go ahead."

She lit up a candle and picked her daintiest, sharpest knife, holding the blade into the flame. She threw the bottle of painkillers at him and he caught it out of the air effortlessly. "Take those. They will help a bit with the pain. Plus, they reduce inflammation."

He swallowed down a handful of pills. Penryn walked up to him and leaned down, deciding how to go about this.

"It's going to hurt," she warned, not sure why she even cared.

The Guardian didn't seem anxious. "I'll live. I just hope you're not scared of blood."

"There's no sweeter sight than a Guardian's blood to me."

He snorted. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. His skin was warm and silky. It was weird to touch him, weird to be this close to the enemy, having him shirtless in her bedroom. He felt so real. Her brain couldn't quite keep up with the surreal situation.

She touched the tip of the hot blade to the wound, almost flinching at the sight. His muscles tensed under her touch, but that was the only reaction she got.

"Careful, Penryn. I'd prefer for you to not slip with that knife." This time she did flinch. She pulled away from him, aghast at hearing her name from his lips. It felt too intimate, too close. "How… how do you know my name?"

"Your mother called you Penryn." He cocked his head slightly. "It's a strange name. _Penryn_. Is it common in Jonum?"

He spoke fluently, his accent nearly imperceptible. Most Guardians had the heavy, dark accent of their native language, Malakei, brutalizing Jonum, her nation's official language, with their harsh pronunciation and guttural undertone. She'd hardly noticed his accent when he'd spoken before, but when he said her name, it sounded slightly off. Just a little bit different, though not bad.

"It's not." She refocused on the task at hand, glad for the excuse to not meet his gaze. There was something about those piercing, blue eyes that made her feel flustered.

"So," she muttered, opening the wound with a careful cut to give her a better look. "Now that you know my name, will you tell me yours?"

He was quiet for a moment. She was almost sure he wouldn't respond, when he said. "Raffe."

The sound of his name made her look up at him. It was weird that he suddenly had a name, that he wasn't just a _"Guardian"_ anymore, but an actual person. A person with a name, a history, possibly a family? "Raffe," she repeated quietly, and something flickered in his eyes for a millisecond. "It… has a nice sound to it."

For some reason she felt heat rise up in her cheeks, so she quickly looked down at his shoulder again. She could feel his eyes on her and wondered what he was thinking. "So, why exactly is this gun so important to you? Couldn't you just get a new one?"

"It's not just some gun," he said. "It's damn advanced technology and it is both an irreplaceable weapon in battle, as it is a symbol of status. Whoever ends up with it neither has the knowledge, nor the capabilities to use it. But it should not be in the hands of Jonum people."

There was something to the way he said that, that made her suspect there was more to this than he was telling her.

"They took your motorcycle too, didn't they?"

"Yes," he sounded annoyed. "And I'm going to get that back as well. "

"What exactly did you do to piss them off that much?"

"Well, aren't you a victim-blamer?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, please. Don't try to play innocent." She twisted the blade carefully, amazed at his ability to keep up a normal conversation while his shoulder was being mauled by a red hot knife. "Aaaand, there it is." The bullet, small and black beneath the coat of blood, popped out of the wound, landing on her outstretched palm. She held it close to her eye and twisted it around. "Seems whole. There shouldn't be any shrapnel."

He nodded and rolled his shoulder, as if to shake off the pain. "Not bad. Didn't think you'd be so nifty with a knife." There was something akin to reluctant approval in his voice.

"You have no idea," she smirked and was surprised when he actually reciprocated the grin. He looked good with a smile, handsome and relaxed and _normal_. She reminded herself that he was part of the invaders that had turned her country into a terror regime.

She wiped antiseptic ointment onto his wound and bandaged him up, then quickly turned away and went to clean the blade and her hands. When she returned, she grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it on the ground, maybe more vehemently than she intended to. "I'll take the bed. You can sleep on the ground."

She almost expected him to argue with her, given that he must've been used to much more luxurious accommodations, but he flopped down onto the carpet without opposition. Her surprise must've been showing, because he shrugged and shot her another short smirk. "It's your bed, Penryn. I'm not going to get in, unless you ask me to."

"Yeah, that won't happen," she snapped, annoyed at the heat in her cheeks. He said nothing, but there was an amused glint in his eyes.

"Bloated ego much?" she grumbled and picked up a long-sleeved shirt and linen pants to sleep in. He shrugged nonchalantly and tucked his hands under his head, looking relaxed. She caught herself staring at the rise and fall of his muscular chest and turned away, cursing inwardly. His head might've been the size of the moon, but it wasn't unjustified. He was almost painfully attractive with his sharp, chiseled face, strong jaw and athletic build. His black hair contrasted beautifully with his caramel skin, looking so much healthier than her own pale complexion.

She changed into the comfortable clothes outside her bedroom, and when she came back in, his breathing had evened out. She tip-toed around him and crawled onto the bed, tugging her wool blanket over herself. She felt vulnerable and naked sleeping in the same room as him. She wanted at least a brick wall and a vault door between her and any Guardian soldier while she was asleep and defenseless.

She laid in the dark, listening to his even breathing. Despite herself, the stead rhythm numbed her and tiredness took over. Tomorrow, she would seek out the merchant she'd sold the gun to, bringing an enemy soldier right into the heart of the city's criminal infrastructure. If they were caught, she'd be lynched by both the government and her own people. She drifted into a fitful sleep, her last thoughts following her into anxious nightmares. There was a world of trouble waiting for her.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed.**

 **Merry Christmas!**

 **~K.**


	4. The Lion's Den

**The lion's den**

Penryn awoke with the first rays of sunlight. She felt like she hadn't slept more than a few minutes. Sitting up, she looked around and realized that she was alone. Where was Raffe? Anxiety tied her stomach in knots. Had he left? If he was gone, so was her chance at finding Paige.

She started as the door opened and Raffe came in, dark hair dripping water onto his naked shoulders. He looked freshly showered and well-rested.

"Did you use our bathroom?" Penryn asked sharply, not comfortable with the thought of him making himself at home in their apartment.

The corners of his mouth quirked up as he looked at her. "I did. Don't you think it would've been suspicious if I walked around bloodied and dirty?"

"Not at all. You'd fit right in," she grumbled, discreetly patting down her tangled hair. Raffe shrugged and flopped down next to her on the bed, making her start. "I prefer to be clean."

She got up quickly, feeling uncomfortable with him so close to her. "I'm going to take a shower as well. And then we leave."

"What, no breakfast?"

She threw him a dark look. "I'm not here to cook for you."

He laughed and leaned back against the headboard, seeming completely at ease, as if it was _his_ bed he was currently occupying and she was the guest here. Ignoring the twinge of anger, she felt, Penryn gathered up clothes for the day and left the room.

In the bathroom, her already poor mood worsened, when she discovered that he'd used up all the hot water. Boiling it would cost time and electricity, so she had to make do with a quick, ice cold shower. Shivering like leaf, she hastily toweled herself off and pulled on her clothes, then braided her still wet hair against the back of her head. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her skin seemed paler than usual, the shadows under her eyes more pronounced. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and nodded to herself. This would do.

Penryn made her way to her mother's bedroom. She carefully peeked inside, but her mom was nowhere in sight. Pushing the door fully open, Penryn strode to the closet at the far end of the narrow room and pulled it open. She knew her mother still kept some of her father's old clothes. Raffe was taller than him, but she found a dark pair of pants and a loose shirt that should fit well enough.

She gathered the clothes in her arms and went back to her bedroom. "I found something to wear for you," she said and dumped the items onto the bed next to him. Raffe picked up the dark linen shirt and inspected it. She half expected a snide remark about the frayed hemlines and faded colors, but he pulled it on without protest. He grabbed the pants and threw her a look.

"Right." Penryn felt a completely unnecessary blush rise into her face and quickly turned around. "I'll go see if we have something to eat." She shut the door behind her more forcefully than necessary. Why did she feel so awkward around him? It was like he could throw her off with a mere glance in her direction. Meanwhile, he seemed completely unfazed by the oddness of the situation. It didn't matter. She had more important things to do right now. She grabbed her trusty, old leather satchel from a hook by the door and headed for the kitchen.

Her family's food stock was as sparse as usual, but she took a loaf of bread, some cheese, two bottles that she filled with water and a few small bags of dried fruits, and stuffed them all into her bag. She had a feeling they would need supplies for more than one day.

"Can we go?" She turned to find Raffe lean against the opposite wall.

"So impatient?"

"The sooner we get going, the sooner I have my rifle back. Why should we waste time by sitting around?"

He was right about that at least. Time was ticking by fast and already the one night of waiting had set her on edge. The quicker she found out what had happened to Paige, the better. Thinking about her made Penryn's throat constrict. She couldn't even begin to imagining what had happened to her sister. She needed to keep a clear head.

"Alright," she said, pulling the strap of her satchel over her shoulder. "Let me grab my boots and some knifes and we're good to go."

The sky hung steel blue over the dark tents and huts that filled the narrow alleys. The hot steam that wavered through the streets was a welcome source of warmth in the crisp cold. Penryn pulled her hood over her damp hair and wrapped her cloak tighter around her, though the dark wool was a puny shield against the icy air.

"Remember, I'll do the talking. And if anyone asks, you're a-"

"A scrap dealer that is looking to make some money on the side."

She threw Raffe a glance, who seemed unfazed to walk right into the heart of the lion's den. If someone blew their cover and found out about him, he'd get a bullet between the eyes faster than he could blink. The risk of a dead Guardian was high, but the risk of a Guardian infiltrating the city's criminal hub was higher. And Penryn was aware that if he went down, she'd follow right after for bringing him here.

"Just try not to be suspicious," she mumbled, looking around to make sure nobody listened. "You're already noticeable enough."

"Why, because I'm so unbelievably attractive?"

"No, because your head is so big."

He grinned.

They rounded a corner and came to a stop in front of a dark brick building, the windows covered with neon-colored sheets. The only entrance was a rusty metal door with a broken code lock. Penryn rapped her knuckles against the door in a certain rhythm.

"Knock code," Raffe said behind her, "how old-fashioned."

"Shut up."

The door slid open and Penryn and Raffe stepped into a long, narrow corridor, half a dozen doors, all covered by the same ugly neon sheets as the windows, on both sides. Apart from a faint hum, no sound could be heard.

"We're early," Penryn mumbled. "Only a few merchants are here yet."

"This is some place of community building?"

"Kind of."

She led him to the fifth door on the left, covered by a yellow sheet the color of urine. "Regz?" she called, tilting her head to listen for a response. There was light behind the curtain, so she figured the merchant was already there. "It's Penryn Young."

She felt Raffe watch her. Maybe he was wondering why she was using her real name. Some people preferred to use aliases, but most didn't bother. If someone wanted to know your real identity, accessing your personal data was as easy as reading the page of an open book. All it took was one semi-talented hacker and access to the net.

"Ah, the Young girl," sounded the response from inside the room. "Come in, come in."

Penryn threw a glance at Raffe and pushed through the curtain into the room. He followed behind her. Regz was a small man, not much taller than herself, with spindly limbs and wrinkly, yellow skin. His thinning hair was dyed a shrill blue, but it couldn't distract from his dulling eyes that betrayed his high age. Those eyes landed on Raffe the moment he stepped into the room and narrowed dangerously. "Who is that? You brought a stranger into the Expo, Young?"

Penryn straightened and begged the heavens that the old man didn't notice her anxiety. Regz was a greedy coward, someone that would stay silent for the right amount of credits, but she suspected not even he could be bribed into keeping quiet about a Guardian on the market.

"He's with me," she stated calmly, putting as much boredom into her voice as possible. "Just a scrap dealer that's travelling with me for a few days."

Regz raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Raffe. " _Travelling_ with you?" he repeated doubtfully.

Penryn forced herself to keep a cool face, breath calmly. If they couldn't even convince Regz, they could forget the whole thing.

Regz snorted. "Yeah, he looks like he's _travelling_ with you. How nice of you to take him for the ride, Young."

It took Penryn a second to understand the insinuation in the merchant's words, and when she did she felt both embarrassed and relieved. "That's not what I said," she responded coldly, but this time she welcomed the heat that rushed into her cheeks. Let Regz think she was just a young girl that was bashful about her lover and tried to look mature. It meant he wouldn't regard her – or Raffe – as a threat.

"So what brings you to me, little Young?"

This was the hard part. She still hadn't decided how she would go about extracting the information of where he'd sold the rifle. She didn't have enough money to buy the information from him, and something told her that he wouldn't respond to a simple 'please'.

"Remember the rifle I sold you yesterday morning?"

Regz eyes narrowed. "Yes?" His voice was sharp, but she noticed a layer of unease beneath his harsh tone. It had been unmistakable that the weapon was Guardian made, and though Guardian technology was worth a small fortune on the black market, trading government weapon came with a high risk. And if there was one thing Regz didn't like, it was risks.

An idea started forming in her head. "You need to tell me who you sold it to."

"What? Why would I have to tell you that? You know the deal." He looked angry, but she could see that he was growing more anxious.

"Of course I do. I'd never break contract if it wasn't absolutely necessary, but…" she broke off, letting the words hang in the air. Making him squirm a few seconds more.

"But what?"

"Haven't you noticed? There's been twice as many patrols last night and this morning, and I've seen a few soldiers questioning citizens in the Southern Districts. I don't know what it was about, but I couldn't help but think…" Again, she stopped, letting him come to his own conclusions. "I think they're might be searching for it. I don't know what's with this gun or how it ended up on the street that I found it, but what if this thing is bigger than we thought? If they start tracking the weapon, it could lead them right here. That's why I'm trying to track it down manually. And get it off the market."

"That's impossible. We removed the tracer. I had two hackers double-check it."

"But it's _Guardian_ technology. Maybe they have tracing methods that we don't know of. What if they have a measure of tracking it down? Better they find it in a dumpster than in the middle of the hub."

Regz seemed to mull her words over, his eyes dancing between her and her companion. She could practically feel the waves of skepticism rolling off of Raffe. She was pretty bad at lying, and she hadn't exactly come up with the most convincing arguments, but Regz was neither smart nor courageous, so she'd just hoped that the odds would work in her favor.

"But they wouldn't trace it back to me," Regz said hesitantly, as if he was hoping for confirmation from her. "I mean, by now it's long out of my shop. They wouldn't associate it with me."

Penryn shrugged, looking like she sympathized with him. "I have no idea. I just thought it was fair to warn you. And the other merchants. Give me the name of the middleman you sold it to and I'll tell him the same thing I told you." She tried her best to sound like she was doing him a favor.

Regz looked like he was trying to figure out the catch.

"I mean, you already got the credits. I'll work it out with the merchant that currently has the rifle in his possession. You have nothing to lose."

That seemed to convince Regz. "Alright." he said and walked to his terminal. He punched in a few words and scrolled through the names. "Yesterday at 11.03 Standard Time I sold the rifle to Kalif. I take it you're accustomed with her?"

Penryn nodded grimly. Kalif was a big shot on the black market, dealing with a wide variety of things, from mind-altering substances, to weapons, to exotic animals. Almost everyone had at some point made a deal with her. She was infinitely smarter than Regz and it would take a lot more than a little story to get a customer's name from her.

"Thank you." Penryn inclined her head in a sign of gratitude. "You should delete the data now. Just to be safe."

Regz nodded and hastily typed in something on the console. "Is there anything else you wanted?" he asked impatiently, brows furrowing as his eyes scurried over the screen.

"No, that would be it."

Penryn gestured to Raffe to follow her and pulled the curtain aside, glad to be out of the dim room. They left the Expo in silence, Penryn still amazed about how well this had worked. When they stepped outside, Raffe shook his head. "That guy must be dense to buy into such a weak story."

Penryn shot him a glare. "It worked didn't it? The story obviously wasn't that bad."

"You're a horrible liar, though. It's your luck that this guy couldn't see the truth if it was right in front of him."

"You should be glad, not complaining. Geez, did anyone ever tell you that you're a pain in the ass?"

"Not really. Most women are more than delighted at my company. In fact, they beg me not to leave."

Penryn snorted loudly and started walking. "I'll be a first, then. Come on, we should go to the 'House of Pleasure'. It's Kalif's biggest investment and we'll be most likely to make an appointment with her there."

Raffe followed her. " _House of Pleasure_? A brothel, then?"

Penryn stepped into a frozen puddle and the ice cracked beneath the thick sole of her boot. "Amongst other things."

"You sure like to consort with good company."

She threw him a hard glance. "I have no choice. It's the only way I can come up with the money to pay for my sister's medical treatment. Which she wouldn't need if it wasn't for your people. My mother lost her job after the invasion. Our family has nothing left."

Raffe held her eyes, his face unreadable, but he said nothing. She turned away and led them around a corner. At the end of the street, the 'House of Pleasure' stretched up into the sky, a once splendid skyscraper in the style of Art Déco, though time and soot had soiled the façade and darkened the golden arch above the entrance doors, which were now illuminated by harsh neon light. Flashing LEDs formed the words "HOUSE OF PLEASURE", sending a clear message to everyone that subtlety was not part of Kalif's business plan. It was also a blatant provocation. Brothels and casinos were illegal, and though the entire black market was obviously operating outside the law, Kalif probably was the person who was the most outright about it. A smart move to demonstrate both her rebellious attitude, and her resilience. She was running a casino and a pleasure house right under the nose of the Guardians, and she managed to get away with it, though Penryn had no idea how.

Raffe eyed the building skeptically. "Why do Jonum people feel the need to cover all of their buildings with Jumbotrons and harsh lights until the façade can hardly be seen? It makes your head hurt when you walk through the cities."

"Maybe you should've stayed in Malaka, then," Penryn snapped, then flinched and clamped her mouth shut, looking around to make sure nobody had heard her. Raffe said nothing.

"Alright," she murmured, exhaling slowly. "Alright, okay. We'll have to go inside. Just act normal. And if someone offers something to you, whether it's a drink, drug, food, or their body, don't accept. I don't have the money for extravagance and the last thing I need is being indebted to Kalif."

They followed a group of middle-aged men through the entrance doors. Although it was still early in the day, the lobby was already bustling with activity, making it easier for them to stay low-key. Unlike the façade, the interior of the converted hotel had been thoroughly renovated, and there wasn't much left of the ancient Art Déco behind the screens and neon sign that covered the walls. For as long as Penryn could remember, the huge crystal chandelier that hung under the lobby's dome hadn't been working, and now the crystal was dulled by dust and spider-webs. Without it acting as the major source of light, the lobby was dimly lit, big pillars throwing long shadows across the marble floor.

"So, where do we find the woman that runs this establishment?" There was an edge in Raffe's voice.

"I know someone who works at the casino. Maybe he'll manage to get us a last minute appointment."

"Casino? You think they'll let us in there dressed like this?"

Penryn couldn't help but grin. "It's not that kind of casino. This is the black market, not a fancy hotel."

Indeed, the casino was more like a gambling den, pools of light falling over round tables in an otherwise dark room, smoke wafting through the air. The stench of dozens of differently flavored tobacco brands made Penryn feel lightheaded. She resisted the urge to cough as she made her way through the room. She'd been right about their clothes. No one spared them a second glance as they headed toward a Blackjack table in the back of the room, where a tall man with long limbs was dealing out cards.

He smirked when he saw Penryn. "Well, hello there, birdy. I've missed you at my table."

The other gamblers ignored them as they stepped up to the table.

"Hey, Jerran. Your hair is longer," Penryn said with a nod to his now shoulder-long, blonde hair.

He drew an ace of clubs and said to a man on their right "Dealer stands on soft 17." He turned back to her. "So what can I do for you, birdy?"

"We need an appointment with Kalif. As quickly as possible. It's urgent."

"We?" His gaze travelled to Raffe, who stood behind her with his hands in his pockets. Jerran looked him up and down, an eyebrow quirking up on his forehead. His eyes wandered back to Penryn. "And who is he? A friend of yours?" His eyes glinted, though he suppressed his smirk, and she felt indignant that everyone they'd met automatically assumed they were lovers. It wasn't like she had a reputation in that matter.

"He's just someone who's travelling with me for a few days. We have… unfinished business."

Jerran sighed good-naturedly, and complied with a gamblers request for another hit. The man cursed as he saw the card that was drawn for him. "They grow up so fast these days." Jerran winked at her.

"The appointment."

The man that had just surpassed the allowed 21 points slammed his cards on the table and angrily bellowed something in a foreign language. Jerran cast him a cold look and uttered a single phrase in a similar sounding language, effectively shutting the man up. He got up from the table without another word and took off.

"Alright, birdy," Jerran said after the man had left. "How urgent would that appointment be?"

"As soon as possible. Today rather than tomorrow."

He let out a quick laugh. "Oh, Penryn. You know how how highly I value you and that sharp mind of yours, but unless you've got something really hot to sell for Kalif, there's no way I can get you an appointment that soon. I might be on Kalif's good side, but even I have my limits."

He gathered up the deck of cards and started mixing, letting the cards fly through his beringed fingers.

"When would be the soonest you could get her to speak with us? I just need a few minutes, no big business."

His eyes met hers and she made sure to stand her ground. She was on good terms with Jerran, but this was about bargaining and being assertive as much as every other business on the black market.

"You owe me," she reminded him.

Jerran snorted. "Alright, birdy, I'll see what I can do. If it's only for a few minutes, I'll ask if Kalif can squeeze you in. Stick around, I'll contact you once I've talked to her."

"Thank you, Jerran. I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important."

He shrugged and turned back to the table. "Like I said, I like you. Can't turn down a pretty girl's request."

"Now you're overdoing it."

He chuckled.

"Alright, we'll be around."

"Better get a room. I don't think that I'll be able to get you anything before tomorrow."

She sighed. If there was one thing she didn't have money for, it was a room in the House of Pleasure. But she wasn't about to tell him that. "We'll be here."

She gestured to Raffe to follow her and quickly led them out of the casino, glad to be able to breath freely again. Well, relatively.

"What now?" Raffe asked once they were back in the lobby. She shrugged.

"We'll have to stick around here, so Jerran can contact us. We could just wait here. Unless you'd like to frequent one of the bars."

"Maybe we should do that. Better than sitting around in a lobby for hours."

"I was kidding. I don't know if you'd want to be in one of those bars. I don't think they meet… your kind's standards."

"My kind?" he asked with mock innocence. "I don't know what you mean."

She felt a twinge of annoyance, but decided to let it go. "Fine, I don't care. Let's go to a bar then. But I'll have to warn you. You're expected to order something in there, and the prices here are not low."

"I have the money."

She led them to the bar on the first floor, knowing that it would only get more expensive – and more extravagant – the higher they went. The bars in the upper floors were reserved for guests with very… particular tastes.

Raffe chose a booth in the corner of the room, a spot in which he'd have a good view of the entire room without being too noticeable himself, Penryn realized. She wondered how it must be for him, surrounded by enemies that wouldn't hesitate to kill him – or worse – if they found out who he was. He hid it well, but he was constantly on guard, probably ready to launch into a fight as soon as the situation called for it.

A waitress, a red-haired woman with peacock feathers woven through her hair, came to take their orders, her smile turning a bit more lascivious when she saw Raffe.

He ordered something that Penryn didn't even know the name of, while she stuck to a cup of black coffee. The waitress flashed Raffe another encouraging smile and left to get their orders.

"I underestimated this place. There are a lot of people working here. And I suspect waitresses and dealers are only the beginning of it."

"You're right about that. If you're looking for people with unusual job descriptions, just go a few floors higher and you'll find what you're looking for. The House of Pleasure is big business. Kalif specializes in fulfilling people's most forbidden desire, no matter how extravagant. There's money to be made here. If you can handle the clientele."

"And you can?"

"I don't work here."

Raffe regarded her. "But you seem to know your way around."

"If you have something special to sell, you go to Kalif and get the best price for it. It's no surprise your gun ended up in her hands."

The waitress came back and set a tin cup of coffee in front of Penryn and a glass with a steaming clear liquid in front of Raffe. "Enjoy."

Penryn took a sip of coffee, closing her eyes as she relished the bitter taste. Strong, as she liked it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Raffe watching her. Suddenly feeling awkward, she nodded to his glass and asked "What's that?"

"It's Baijiu. A distilled liquor originally from China. I don't know at which point in history it found its way to Malaka, but it's a popular drink back home."

It was weird to hear him talk about his home, as if any of them had families, or lives outside of war. When she saw the tall soldiers patrolling the streets with emotionless faces, it was hard to think of them as loving fathers or husbands, or anything other than coldhearted monsters at all.

"So what is this Kalif person like? How does she look?"

Penryn took another delicious sip of coffee and shrugged. "Wouldn't know."

"I thought you had made business with her already."

"I have. But no one knows what she looks like. She never shows her face, only communicates via a netlink."

"No one knows what she looks like?"

She shook her head. "Not that I know of. I mean, maybe there is someone, but it's not known."

Raffe frowned and leaned back in his seat. "That's strange. Why would she do that?"

Penryn shrugged. "I don't know. Sense of security? To maintain an aura of mystery? I think most people don't care as long as they get their money."

"Hmm." He tipped back the content of his glass, then put it back on the soft wooden table with a soft clang. "So, how does a nice, little girl like you end up getting a favor from a guy like Jerran?"

Penryn sipped on her coffee. "I caught someone counting cards on his table and called them out on it."

"How did you catch them?"

"Because I was counting myself."

The corners of his mouth twitched, but all he said was. "Not very sportsmanlike to call them out on that then, wasn't it?"

She shrugged. "I wanted the money myself."

"And Jerran didn't count himself?"

"I don't know. Maybe he lost track for a second. I have no idea, but I imagine that if you work here and mess up, the consequences are quite harsh."

He cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at her through dark lashes. "He probably would've preferred making it up to you in a different way."

She flushed. "I doubt it. I was only fifteen when I caught the guy."

"So, you were probably already quite pretty back then, why not keep you on his good side and wait what happens when you're older?"

Penryn blinked, feeling extremely awkward. Had he just called her pretty? _Not_ that she cared.

She downed the rest of her coffee, feeling like she needed another one to get through the day. "Why does everyone today thinks I collect lovers on the side? As if I don't have other problems right now."

At that, Raffe shot her a grin. "Maybe because I'm so irresistibly attractive that nobody expects you to be able to control yourself?"

"I hope no one thinks I have that low standards…"

He grinned and tossed a few credit bills on the table. "Come on. If we'll have to stick around until tomorrow, we should get a room so we can get some rest."

"Do you know how expensive a room is here?"

"I have enough cash for at least one night."

She stood with him. "They took your motorcycle but left all your money in place?"

"They don't need money."

That sounded like problems Penryn could only dream of, but she said nothing. She followed Raffe, who already moved around like he'd known the place for years. He had a natural aura of dominance, as if he was used to not having to ask for permission and everyone automatically making room for him. She wondered how high ranking he was among his people. Given his attitude, she suspected he could be a big shot. The thought made her chest tighten. Who said that when this was all over, he wouldn't march right back here and bring an army with him?

She told herself that she wasn't showing him anything the government wasn't already aware of, but it didn't make her feel any better. Should he gain any information on their journey that could help his people burn this place down, why would he refrain from using it? And it would be her fault.

She shook her head and followed him out of the bar. It was no use. If she wanted a chance at finding out what had happened to her sister, she had no choice but to keep going.

* * *

 **I'm sorry for the delay (again), but not only am I dealing with finals right now, I also recently suffered a loss in my family that's been quite hard on me. I have a lot on my mind right now, but I'll keep writing and try to keep the updates as regular as possible. If anything my chappies are always quite long (this one is almost 5.000) so maybe that justifies a longer waiting time. Feedback and reviews are appreciated.**

 **~K.**


	5. The Bigger They Are

**The Bigger They Are**

"How charming." Penryn flopped down on the creaky mattress and looked around in the dim room. Raffe closed the door and surveyed the hotel room, taking in the bleak interior.

"So, this is what you get for 500 credits in this place?"

Penryn snorted and shrugged off her wool coat. "You don't pay 500 credits for the room and the bed. The contents of the minibar and the _room service_ are included in the price."

Raffe peered into the mini bar and whistled. "This Kalif must have some good connections if she can afford to import alcohol and drugs for every hotel room without being caught. Just smuggling mind-altering substances into the country is a serious crime. So is prostitution, of course."

He heard Penryn's snort behind him. "Yeah, because your people don't ever indulge in anything like that at all. Do you really think we don't know that you have dozens of Jonum escorts at all your banquets? Not to mention the booze."

Raffe's lips twitched in what was almost a grin, when he turned back to her. "It's astonishing you managed to stay alive for so long in company like this with that sharp tongue of yours."

She shrugged. "I have my ways of staying alive."

"I don't doubt that."

He sauntered over to a worn armchair in the corner of the room and sank into it, shrugging out of his shirt to peer at the bandages over his arm.

"What are you doing?" She sounded just a tiny bit nervous. He suppressed a smirk.

"Checking the wound," he murmured and peeled the layer of bandages aside slightly.

Penryn got up from the bed and came over, leaning down to take a look. She ignored his half-nakedness, but he could've sworn that her cheeks turned a bit pink when she leaned closer. A crease appeared between her eyebrows when she saw the skin around the edges of the wound, already rosy and healthy looking again. "It looks… good. Almost too good. Not a trace of an infection."

He pulled the bandage back in place and reached for his shirt. "You did a good job then."

She threw him a weird look, but didn't press it.

"So," he pulled his shirt back on and leaned back in his seat. Penryn sat back down on the bed, a good two feet away from him. "What is this whole quarantine thing about? Why do you want to know if there has been any kind of outbreak in the hospitals lately?"

She cocked her head to the side, a birdlike gesture, elongating her thin neck. She had a pretty neck. She _was_ pretty.

"I thought you didn't care about my nation's health?"

He shrugged. "I'm interested as to why you are so desperate to find out about something like that."

Her hands tightened into fists on the bedsheets. "I told you that children have been taken from the hospitals in claim of some quarantine. My sister is one of them. She's nine years old and paralyzed from the waist down ever since…" she broke off, struggling for words for a moment. "She's completely helpless. And now she's gone and nobody told me the slightest thing. I need to know where she is. And…" she hesitated, looking at him quickly as if gauging something. "And I think there might be something more going on."

"And why would you think that?"

She took a shaky breath and shrugged helplessly, looking up at the ceiling as if the answer was written there. It was the first time he'd seen her tough act crack. "The whole situation just seemed weird. An underage girl is taken from the hospital without any note to her family? Nobody wanted to tell me anything. No questions allowed. It just seemed… suspicious. Why wouldn't they tell me about it, if they had nothing to hide?"

"They?"

She looked up at him, scrutinizing him, but didn't respond.

"When do you think Jerran will contact us?"

Penryn sighed, leaning back against the headboard of the double bed. "In a few hours minimum. He has a shift to finish and it's not like he can just waltz into Kalif's office and ask her to squeeze us in." She frowned. "Not that there is an official office to waltz into."

Raffe nodded and walked toward the bed, sitting down on the opposite side of her. Penryn startled as the mattress dipped under his weigh. "What are you doing?"

He lay down and folded his arms behind his head, taking in the girl's flushed face with a small grin. She acted so tough and mature, but she was amusingly easy to fluster. And the sight of her pink cheeks evoked a pleasant tingle in the pit of his stomach. He frowned at himself and looked away, decisively closing his eyes.

"We should take the time and rest a little bit. You never know when you'll get the chance again."

Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the tension radiating off of her, her uncertainty hanging in the air like the clouds of smog outside their window. Eventually, she settled down beside him, no doubt scooted as far to the edge of the bed as possible. He heard her take in a deep breath, as if bracing herself, and then silence. He lay with his eyes closed, letting the calming rhythm of her breathing evening out lull him into numbness.

He could set himself an inner clock, controlling the time he slept. He told himself to sleep for one hour and then let the numbness overtake him.

* * *

 _The metal was cold and hard against his back and he jerked up reflexively, but his body didn't obey. There was a burning in his veins, spreading out into his whole body, setting him on fire, filling his lungs, choking him. He wanted to scream, but no sound escaped his mouth as he stared, unblinkingly, into the glaring light above him…_

 _He was standing at the edge of a training mat, his eyes closed, hearing the_ whoof _of air right before a metal clad fist connected with his chest. His ribs seemed to rattle, shaking his insides, but they didn't give way. He felt no cracking of bone, only a dull throbbing pain. After a few moments he could breathe again. He heard a rustling to the right and spun out of the way, slamming the edge of his flat hand against where he calculated his opponent's neck to be. The flesh of his hand connected with armor, but he felt the metal give way and dent in, heard his opponent choke and stumble back. It was easy to hear where he was now, with all the wheezing and gurgling, and he moved after him and brought his foot down…_

 _He was spitting blood into a sink, the red billowing out in thin stream of water and running down the drain. He lifted his head and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, bloodshot eyes, purple veins underneath._ "You've been skipping treatment." _A familiar voice behind him._ "You know you can't do that until you're finished. It's wearing you down already _."_

 _He was younger, much younger, looking over a rippling cornfield, but when he stretched out his hand to touch one of the plants, they burned away under his touch. Even after they had crumbled completely, the burning did not stop, swallowing him up again, from the tips of his fingers to the roots of his hair…_

 _Then, a different sort of warmth against his chest. A brush of something soft–_

His eyes shot open, immediately awakened by the touch to his chest. He had learned to become a very light sleeper and even the brush of a feather would wake him.

It was the girl. She must've had scooted closer to him in his sleep and accidentally brushed against him, disturbing his fitful sleep. He felt perspiration prickle his forehead and wiped a hand over his face. He threw a look at the clock on the wall. He hadn't been asleep for more than twenty minutes. His lungs were aching from the memory of his dreams. _You'll never have to feel that again_.

His attention snapped back to Penryn, who shifted slightly in her sleep, a crease between her eyebrows, hand fisted in the sheets beside her. Her back still touched his chest lightly, and even though his skin felt overheated, her warmth was strangely comforting. He edged slightly closer to her, feeling her ribcage move with her breaths. She smelled nice, he noticed, clean and clear. He carefully laid an arm around her, placing a hand on her ribcage. He didn't know why he did it. He shouldn't, that much was clear, but he wanted to know how it felt to hold her. Her ribs felt delicate under his touch, bones that he could break with a light press of his hands if he wanted to. The thought made him nauseated, even though he'd broken many bones before. He pulled her against himself a bit, feeling better with her tucked to his chest. How small she was. She really was a bird-like thing, this girl, all dainty and delicate and breakable. He brushed his hand over her hair, feeling strangely soft toward her all of sudden, and closed his eyes.

 _40 minutes_ , he told himself and relaxed into a light slumber.

* * *

An insistent knock on the door awoke him. He was still on his side holding Penryn, who turned and shifted as she, too, slowly emerged from sleep. Raffe sat up briskly, and threw a quick glance at the clock. Three hours.

He hadn't woken up like usual, in fact, he'd slept much deeper than he usually did in a strange place. _And with a strange girl in his arms._

He looked at her, propping herself up on her elbows with a confused look on her face, and for some reason the sight made something tighten in his chest. He stood up from the bed without a word and strode over to the door, peering through the peep hole. It was Jerran.

He threw the door open and stepped back to let the casino dealer in. Jerran seemed surprised to see him, as if he'd forgotten about him, but his face quickly eased back into a smirk that seemed to be his resting face. He stepped inside and surveyed the room, his eyes catching on Penryn who was still sitting in bed, blankets puddled around her hips. Raffe noticed that Jerran's gaze lingered a second longer on her, before shifting over to the ruffled sheets next to her. His eyes snapped to Raffe, shooting him a piercing look, before he turned back to Penryn, who had gotten out of bed and was quickly pulling on her wool coat.

"News?" she asked, voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

"You have an appointment at 23 00 standard. She said this better be important."

"Okay. Thank you, Jerran. Really. We'd never gotten an appointment that quick without your help." She smiled softly. "I guess that makes us even."

Something flashed across Jerran's face. Disappointment, maybe? It was gone before Raffe could place it. "I hope that doesn't mean I'll never see you again, birdy," he said lightly.

Penryn laughed and drew her wool coat tight around her.

"I'd never pass up on a Blackjack game."

Jerran nodded, a grin playing around his mouth now. "Good. I will see you around, then."

The look he shot Raffe before walking out was one of distaste. Raffe gingerly closed the door behind him.

Penryn studied the clock. "It's late," she murmured. "Almost 22 00. I didn't realize we slept that long." Her eyes flickered to his, uncertain.

Raffe shrugged and claimed the armchair in the corner of the room again. "There wasn't much else to do."

"I guess not." She sat back down on the bed, looking awkward.

"So where will this meeting be? Jerran didn't say."

"There's a conference room on the first floor. It's always there."

He gave the girl a thoughtful look. "If you don't reciprocate his interest-" she looked up, startled, "then you should watch out. There are men that can't let go, despite a rejection."

Her expression changed and he saw her letting his words roll through her head. "What are you insinuating? That he'd force himself on me or that I wouldn't be able to stop him in that case?" Her eyes were sharp, as was her voice. He almost smiled. What a girl.

"I think you can handle yourself," he said and meant it. "But still. Watch out. You might think you're still a child, but you look enough a woman to make some men eager."

She stared at him, indignation coloring her cheeks. _"What?"_ She shook her head, as if dismissing him. "Do you give this advice to every female you meet? Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"

"It's a simple fact. This is a dangerous place, especially for women. The people here are lawless."

She looked like she wanted to argue just for the sake of it, but then she only shrugged. "So am I. But you're right. And I'm not naïve. Don't condescend me."

"I'm not." Silence stretched between them, until he spoke up again. "Why do you need to do it anyway? Trade on the black market? Would a legal job not sustain your family?" There was no accusation in his voice, just an honest question.

Her mouth twisted bitterly. "No, it wouldn't. I have no qualifications, no talents, except swift hands and fast legs. And even if I would get a good job, it would never pay well enough to afford my sister's medical treatment. It's where all the money I make goes into. Though I did steal even before… before she needed treatment. My father had left us. We had nothing."

Quietly he asked, "She wasn't always paralyzed?"

"No. She got injured during a bomb attack on the black market." She looked up at him and he saw in her face that she didn't know why she just told him that. She didn't say anything more and he didn't press.

* * *

The walls of the room were bare, the ceiling, floor all made up of the same grey tiles. Penryn never had a guess where the hidden cameras were located in the room, but they were undoubtedly there. The room was bare but for a table and four chairs.

They sat next to each other in silence. Then, the silence somehow changed, like a static in the air, and Penryn knew that those hidden cameras had switched on, that someone was watching them from a different place. A hum, very faint, lay in the air, indicating an activated loud speaker.

"Young. You brought a guest." Kalif's drawl filled the small room, making Penryn's muscles tighten.

"Surely Jerran told you about him."

"Indeed." There was amusement in the bodiless voice. "Well, what is so urgent that it couldn't wait a day?"

Penryn took a breath. She had given this some thought, how she would go about convincing Kalif of giving up the gun's location, but hadn't come up with a sufficient plan. There simply wasn't enough time and, well, she was a horrible liar.

"The rifle I sold you. I need to know whom you sold it to."

The silence crackled for a few seconds, static tension. Then, "Why?"

"It has trackers."

"What a surprise. They were all removed. You know that."

Penryn bit the inside of her cheek, cursing her inability to come up with something more convincing. "I think we might have missed something. I saw Guardians questioning civilians in the Southern District."

"And why do you care? By now it's long out of your possession. It wouldn't be traced back to you."

"Unless the Guardians care for who stole it in the first place. Which they probably would. Don't you think they have their ways of making people talk? Especially people that owe me no loyalty."

"They'd have to give me up first before they could sell you out."

Few people would be stupid enough to cross Kalif. Still, Penryn pressed on. "I made a mistake when I stole that gun." She let some of her desperation leak through her voice, hoping to sound like a scared child that had only now realized what it meant to play with the grown-ups. "I was desperate, thinking about the credits it would gain me. I didn't think about the consequences. I'm scared." She thought about Paige, missing from the hospital room, and didn't need to fake the fear in her voice.

"And what do you intend to do? Hunt down the rifle and give it back to the Guardians yourself? Even if you found it, what would you do with it?"

"Destroy it." It sounded more like a question than an answer. This wasn't going to work. Kalif was smart. She wouldn't fall for an excuse as weak as hers and even if she believed her, she wouldn't give up a customer's name for a merchant's spinelessness.

"I don't think you're as much a coward as you pretend to be, little Young." Her voice was a slow drawl, almost amused. "It takes guts to come here, demand an immediate meeting and ask for a customer's name for no reason."

She paused and Penryn curled her fingers around the cool edge of the table, gripping hard.

"I don't know if you're reckless or just stupid, but I'd hoped you were at least smart enough to not think _me_ a fool."

"I don't." Penryn's voice sounded small.

"You must, if you bring a Guardian into a meeting with me and hope I won't notice."

Penryn's fingers flexed against the table's surface, veins popping. Her blood frosted over, freezing her in place. She couldn't breathe. The meeting room was underground. There was no way they'd make it out of the building alive. Next to her, she felt Raffe's body go completely still. Tension radiated off of him.

"230 Azabu Boulevard, Northern District. I'm curious to see how this one ends for you."

The line cracked. Silence. They stayed rooted to their spots, neither of them moving. Penryn wasn't even breathing. She was waiting for the door to fly open, for a red dot to appear on her forehead, for the room to fill with gas, an electric shock frying her right on the chair. She was waiting for all kinds of horrible things to happen to her, but nothing did. There was just silence. The static hum had disappeared. They were alone.

Raffe abruptly got up from his chair and moved to the wall next to the door, pressing flat against it. Penryn looked at him numbly. He nodded impatiently for her to join him. She walked up to him on wobbly legs and leaned against the wall. His muscles were taut, eyes sharp, but he didn't hesitate when he reached out to yank open the door.

The hallway was empty. They exchanged a look of utter astonishment, her face slack with disbelieve, his tight with doubt. He pulled her behind him and walked out. She stared at the line of his back, where she could see his muscles flexing in preparation of a fight even through the shirt, and followed him out. She expected an attack the entire way outside, sure with every step that it would be their last. She imagined their bodies peppered with bullet holes, dead before they even hit the ground. They would be attacked before they'd reached the end of the hallway.

They weren't.

* * *

"Why do you think they let us go?"

She looked over at Raffe, who had his legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed, hands deep in his pockets to protect them against the chilly night air. His breath fogged the air when he answered. "I don't have the slightest idea."

Penryn pulled her knees to her chest on the bench and wrapped her coat around herself, looking over the empty train platform. A couple more minutes until the 2 am train that would take them into the Northern District would arrive.

"It was stupid. So stupid. You're too noticeable. Tall, well-fed, muscular. Of course she'd notice. Why wouldn't she?"

"There were bigger guys in that place than me."

"Yeah, but they didn't look like soldiers."

He snorted, still not opening his eyes. "Neither did I. I was just sitting there. I didn't say a word."

"Maybe that was the problem. You acted too cultivated."

Irritated, he said, "She let us go. She gave us the address. Maybe you should focus on that instead."

He was right of course. It wasn't his fault that Kalif had seen through their cover. It was her own, for being stupid enough to think that if a cretin like Regz wouldn't notice, no one else would either. But what was really nagging at her was the complete lack of consequences. Kalif had let them go. _Why?_

"Maybe it doesn't matter to her. I mean, her style isn't exactly subtle, so the Guardians must know about her anyway and she's still standing. Maybe it doesn't make a difference whether they see it from the outside or the inside. They can't bring her down."

Raffe finally opened his eyes and turned to her, blue cutting through the black of the night. "I've been wondering about that. Why they don't bring her down. Maybe-" he stopped, his eyes flickering to something over her shoulder. It was only a second, a small moment in which she noticed his body stiffen and realized that something was wrong.

He lurched forward the same moment a gunshot rang through the air, and threw her to the ground. Pain shot up from her lower body, all the way up into her spine. For a moment, she felt the pressure of his body on top of hers, his torso draped over her head and chest, shielding her, and then he was off her, rolling into a crouch. She lifted her head reflexively and caught him snatch something from his boots in a flash, before it was thrown across the platform, finding it's home in the throat of a man not ten feet away from them. He pulled the blade out reflexively, and Penryn glimpsed a surge of red, before her head was pushed down against the concrete again.

" _Stay down,_ " Raffe hissed above her.

Shuffling noises, more gunshots, a foreign sounding curse. The train had arrived. No one cared about the fight on the platform. Not in this part of the city.

She was dragged up and stumbled after Raffe, who was all but pushing her behind a pillar. Her legs collapsed and she didn't understand why. Her knees ached as they crashed to the ground. A stream of harsh sounding curses reached her ears again, and she realized it was Raffe who was swearing in his own language. She lifted her head up to him and caught him shooting her a dismayed look.

She pushed herself up, fueled by sudden anger. She wasn't a burden. She was a fighter and she knew how to handle herself. And he wasn't the only one who'd snuck a weapon with him. She reached for her own dagger in her boot but as soon as she held it in her hand, Raffe had snatched it from her and thrown. She heard it find its way home with a muffled thud of a body crashing to the floor. She snarled. That had been her throw.

Raffe grabbed her arm and together they ran to the train, though he was practically dragging her behind him. He yanked open a door to a deserted cabin and lifted her inside just as the train began to roll out of the station. A bullet clanged against the side of the train, an inch next to his head. He gripped the handle by the door and hauled himself into the cabin after her. More bullets hit the outside of the train, but it was rapidly gaining speed now and the sounds of gunshots soon faded.

Raffe pulled the door shut. The train turned a corner.

They lay on the ground, breathing hard. Penryn was glad that this compartment of the train seemed empty. Adrenaline was pumping through her blood, making her dizzy. Raffe pushed himself to his feet.

"Can you stand?"

She pushed herself to her knees. "Of course I can," she snarled, still angry that he'd taken her dagger from her, and lividly pushed herself up.

Only then did she realize that her left leg was wet.

As soon as she saw the blood, it was as if a door in her brain opened. The pain was so intense that the world went white for a moment, and she wondered how she could have missed it before.

Her knees buckled. She would've crashed to the floor again had Raffe not caught her in time.

* * *

 **Ah, this story is** **starting to move forward.** **Raffe and Penryn are slowly growing closer together.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would love to hear your thoughts and feedback on it!**

 **~K.**


	6. The Harder They Fall

The Harder They Fall

He lowered her on the ground.

He was still muttering curses under his breath, and though Penryn's understanding of Malakei was limited, she was pretty sure she caught the words " _stupid girl_ " multiple times.  
Indignantly, she pushed herself up on her elbows and scowled at him. "Oh, I'm sorry that I got shot. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."

"You better," he muttered darkly, but there was real concern in his eyes when he knelt down next to her. "Can you stand?"

She bit her lip and shifted her leg slightly. "I don't think so."

"Alright. Put your arms around my neck." She did as she was told and he hoisted her up and onto a bench, her injured leg stretched out in front of her. He touched her cheek and she startled at the intimacy of the gesture. "I need to take a look at it."

The train swerved to the side, jostling him against her and away again. She swallowed as she understood the implication of his words. "Alright."

He gave her a sidelong glance, and she dropped her eyes, heat climbing up her neck. She fumbled with the buttons of her pants, her fingers trembling from pain and anxiety. Raffe hesitated, then reached out to help her maneuver the blood drenched pants over the wound in her thigh. It was still oozing blood, dark in the dim light of the cabin, and the skin around it looked ragged and torn. Penryn's mouth pressed into a thin line to hold back a whimper.

When her pants came off completely, she focused on Raffe's bowed head, the rich, dark color of his hair, instead of the fact that she was half-naked in front of him, or that she could feel his breath fanning across her thigh as he leaned closer.

His fingers carefully prodded around the wound and she flinched, resisting the impulse to pull back her leg. "It seems like the bullet just grazed you," he said. He spoke with his face turned down, making it impossible for her to see his expression. "It has torn a good inch into your thigh and then exited on the other side."

A sharp pain laced up her leg, all the way into her spine, as he carefully pulled at the skin around the wound. "But it doesn't appear to have injured the fascia."

His head was still bowed, but Penryn halted at something in his voice. "That's good, right?"

"Yes." She felt the word mist over the inside of her thigh. Goosebumps erupted over her leg.

"Then why do you sound like it's a bad thing?"

He finally tipped back his head to look at her, and his eyes were dark when they met hers. "It's not the depth of the wound I'm worried about."

"Then what is it?"

He reached for her and she flinched back reflexively. His hand stilled mid-air for a moment, before it moved on and grabbed the strap of her satchel, pulling it off her shoulder.

She kicked herself internally, feeling stupid.

"What are you searching for?" she muttered, watching him rummage through the bag.

He pulled out a roll of gauze. "Do we have some disinfectant? An ointment or something?"

Penryn shook her head. He dropped the satchel and scooted closer to her again, unrolling the gauze.

"You think the wound could catch an infection?"

"Well, we _are_ in a dirty train cabin. And these bandages aren't exactly sterile. We don't even have something to clean the wound. And if it gets infected…" his voice trailer off.

He put one roll of gauze over the wound and rolled the other around it, slowly winding the bandage around her leg. Penryn held as still as possible, suppressing any flinching or twitching, even as his fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh. A shiver racked up her back.

"They were Guardians, right?" Though it was meant as a question, her voice fell flat. Raffe carefully tied the bandages with a small knot at the end and sat back on his heels.

"Yes." Talkative, wasn't he?

"How did they find us? Do you think Kalif contacted them?" But that would've been crazy. One of the prime heads of Jonum's underground, contacting the regime? The thought was laughable. And it didn't make any sense. Why let them go only to rat them out?

"That seems likely." Raffe's voice was gruff, but the sarcasm still shone through.

Penryn tugged her wool-coat over her lap, acutely aware of her bare lower half. Raffe's eyes flickered to her legs at the movement, then away, looking into the dark recesses of the train cabin.

"Where do we need to get out?"

"North Port would be best. It'll be at least four hours until we're there. This train goes all around the outline of the city."

He nodded. His eyes looked far away. "Sleep a bit, Penryn. You should rest."

"What about you?"

He looked at her. The blues of his eyes were deep and dark, like choppy waters. "I slept more than enough at the hotel."

Shrugging, Penryn stretched out onto the bench, pulling her coat over her legs to cover her half-nakedness. Raffe pulled his own coat off and wordlessly draped it over her. She blinked up at him in surprise, but his eyes were turned away from her.

"Won't you be cold?"

"No."

She looked at him for a few more moments, until he sat onto the bench next to her and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

Sighing, she leaned back onto the bench, letting exhaustion overtake her and blur out the throb of pain in her thigh.

* * *

Her eyelids felt sticky when she woke up. Penryn blinked against the throbbing in her head and shifted, slowly sitting up. Every limb in her body was aching.

She pulled the coat aside to check her injury. The bandages were stained with her blood, dried and rusty now. The skin around her wound felt tight and hot. She decided to leave the bandages alone for now.

Her head felt heavy, her forehead damp to the touch, when she put her palm against it. She turned her head and met Raffe's thoughtful gaze.

"I have a fever." Her voice was raw.

He was silent, but she could see the muscle in his jaw working as he nodded.

"But that's not possible," she argued. "I was shot – what – four hours ago? An infection wouldn't catch that quickly."

He shifted closer to her. "Can I see?"

Penryn felt a wave of awkwardness, but there was no point in making a fuzz out of it after he'd already seen her half naked hours before. She nodded. He tugged the coat aside and studied the crusty bandages. "It's possible that the bullet was poisoned."

Blood drained out of her face. "What?"

He leaned back and cleared his throat, his shadowed eyes meeting hers. "It's possible that the bullet was coated in a substance that would increase the chances of inflammation, in the worst case giving you a sepsis that could kill you within a few days. Since the bullet only grazed you and didn't remain inside your body, only a small amount of the poison was able to penetrate your blood cycle, but it would be enough to give you a serious infection."

She stared at the gauze, soggy with lymph. She took a deep breath and wiped the back of her hand over her damp forehead. Raffe handed her a canteen, which she took gratefully. He kept rummaging through her satchel while she gulped down the water, and when she had finished half of it, he had come up with the bundle of food she'd packed.

They shared the handful of dried fruits. Now that she was getting something into her stomach, Penryn realized how painfully hungry she'd been. She regretted having packed so little food. What had she been thinking? That they'd be back within a few hours? That they would pick up something on the go?

 _Stupid, stupid._

Raffe held out the loaf of bread to her. She shook her head. "We shouldn't eat all that at once."

He didn't budge. "You need to eat."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you don't?"

Raffe tore the loaf in half and stacked the bigger chunk away, then tossed the rest of it to her. "Eat." His voice sounded rough.

She shrugged and tore into the bread, despite her earlier reservations. She was just so hungry. Even the dry loaf of days old bread tasted amazing.

They sat in silence for some time, the rattling of the train the only noise. Penryn looked out of the window into the dark, but all she could see was the rain that splattered against the glass from the outside. In its reflection, she caught Raffe tip his head back and close his eyes. She glanced at him.

There was a dark shadow of stubble on his jaw, dusting down his neck, and at closer inspection, his clothes looked ill-fitted and disheveled. Yet he still looked much better than Penryn felt. Strong and sturdy. Sharply cut. Her eyes dipped to his strong chest and arms and she thought that it'd feel warm to be held by him. Sheltered. The sensation was so strong, it felt like remembering the feeling, not imagining it.

Her breath caught in her throat with a sudden onslaught of loneliness and she wrapped her arms around herself. Shelter wasn't something she was accustomed with.

His eyes opened and met her stare. She almost flinched from it.

He sat up straight again and rolled his shoulders, his dark gaze slipping over her with a flicker of something she couldn't place. He looked almost… unsettled.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with something, but not uncomfortable. Still, it made her fidgety.

"Where did you learn to speak our language so well?" she blurted out. He raised a brow, and the weird mood between them was broken.

"I used to travel to Jonum a lot as a kid."

His response took her aback. It was harmless enough, but the thought of it – him as a kid – felt strangely intimate. And unimaginable. She had the impulse to ask if he'd really been a child once.

"How… how old are you?"

The corners of his lips twitched. "Twenty-seven."

"Oh." No surprise there. He looked quite a bit older than her, but she couldn't think of a better response.

"And you?"

"Have a guess." She inwardly kicked herself. That sounded like flirting.

His eyes were somber, though, as he took her in. "You're almost a child, still."

She felt herself tense. His voice hadn't sounded insulting – weirdly off, actually – but there was something about the way that he'd said it that made her weary.

"I'm eighteen, in fact." Her voice was hard. "And I thought I should watch out for big, mean guys because I don't look like a child anymore." He didn't respond.

Beats of silence passed between them, Penryn staring out of the window in a way that she hoped didn't look like a sulking child, until she couldn't bear the silence anymore and turned back to him. "Why did you come here as a kid?"

His eyes were fixed on a spot above her shoulder, as if he was staring into a faraway distance, when he answered. "My parents were businesspeople. When I was really young, they used to take me with them on business trips. And I'm a quick learner."

"They _were_ businesspeople? Are they dead?" It was an insensible question, but given that his people had slaughtered so many of her people, she didn't feel quite as bad about it.

Something entered his face, something she'd never seen on him before, making him look younger. Almost vulnerable. "No," he said lowly. "They're not."

He tensed suddenly. His head perked up, as if he was hearing something that she couldn't. Alarm prickled the skin of her arms, raising the little hairs.

Raffe jumped up and grabbed her bloody pants from the floor, tossing them to her. "Get dressed."

"What's going on?" She threw the coat off, any sense of embarrassing forgotten at the sudden threat.

"I head something. I think they're raiding the train."

"How could you hear that?" She hadn't heard a thing.

He didn't respond, kneeling in front of her to help her wrestle the close-fitting pants over her legs. Penryn's face tightened with pain as the fabric bunched over the bandages.

He pulled her up more careful than she had expected, all but lifting her to not put weight on the injured leg. "Can you stand?"

She shifted her weight onto her leg and bit back a cry at the pain that shot up her leg. She shook her head wordlessly.

Raffe looked around. "When is the next stop?"

"I don't know. Could be a while."

"We don't have that."

He handed her her coat and satchel and she slipped the strap over her chest and shoulder, gripping the worn leather tightly to hold in her anxiety. Raffe looked her over. A sudden thought came to her. He could leave without her. It would all but double his chance of escape and now that he had an address, he really didn't need her anymore. He could easily go on alone from now.

Penryn tried to breath against her rising panic. This Guardian owed her nothing. If he left her here, she was as good as done for. They'd take her in. Or kill her on the spot. Either way, she was as good as dead.

The train pulled into a tunnel and started to slow down. There was a stop coming ahead. Now she, too, heard muffled voices from the adjacent cabin, harsh and foreign sounding. Malakei.

"We need to get off now." He sounded urgent.

"What?"

"We'll have to jump."

She laughed at the prospect, it was so ludicrous. "Raffe, we can't jump from a moving train."

"It's slowing down. We have 60 seconds tops until they bust through that door right there. We need to get off, now."

Ignoring her protest, he pulled the sliding door open, letting in a gust of air. He turned back to her and bend down, unceremoniously lifting her into his arms. Penryn gasped in surprise.

The train was slowing down rapidly, but the tunnel lights still seemed to fly by as he strode toward the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck as tight as she could, her heart pummeling against her ribcage.

"Raffe, don't! You'll kill us."

"I won't. Hold on to me as tight as you can."

"You're crazy-"

He jumped. Penryn pressed her face into his shoulder out of reflex, preparing to be smashed against the ground. His feet hit the ground, and the impact rattled through her body, all the way into her teeth. The momentum sent them forward, but impossibly, he managed to roll out over his shoulder. Her side slammed the ground hard, but it was better being squashed to death against the concrete.

Behind them, the train rattled ahead, disappearing behind a corner.

They stayed laying on the ground for a few heartbeats, their breaths unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. Raffe released her and pushed off the ground.

"Are you alright?"

She propped herself up slowly, checking herself for injuries, but despite a bruised side, no new wounds seemed to have been added to her. "I… I'm fine." A breathless laugh escaped her, despite the fact that every inch of her body hurt, from her feverish head, over her throbbing thigh, to her entire right side, which no doubt would be black and blue in the morning. "I can't believe it." She laughed again, a dazed sound, one that she was unable to hold back.

She looked up at Raffe to find him watching her. She cleared her throat.

He bent down to help her up, keeping a stabilizing arm around her waist. Once she had straightened her clothes and felt somewhat put together again, he lifted her up again.

"Hey!"

"We'll be much faster if I carry you. You can't walk, Penryn, and we're on the run. Act sensible for once."

"I'm always sensible," she protested as he began walking. He snorted.

They travelled through the tunnel system until Penryn couldn't tell how much time had passed since they'd jumped off the train. The occasional flickering lamp on the wall was the only source of light, and the air reeked off gasoline and mirth. Now that the adrenaline was draining out of her body, the sickness from the infection was coming back full force. She was shivering in the crisp cold, but her skin felt like it was burning up. The pain in her head had gotten so bad that even the dim light hurt her eyes.

"Won't your arms get heavy?" She asked, trying to distract herself.

"I'd have to seriously up my training if a half-pint like you was too heavy for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please. You might have a few muscles, but you're not a superhuman."

She caught his smug grin as he stepped into a pool of greenish light from a wall lamp. "Are you sure I'm not? It's not everyday you find someone with as many talents as me. Being strong and devilishly handsome is just naming two of them."

She groaned and pushed against his chest. "Oh, let me down, you insufferable egomaniac. I'd rather not be stuck with you when that head gets too big for the tunnel."

He chuckled. "You should be honored to be carried by me. Women all over the planet would kill for a place in my arms."

"Ugh, let me down, seriously." She made a face at him, and he laughed. He continued to carry her.

After what felt like an eternity, they found a door in the tunnel wall and Raffe walked them through it. They found themselves in a long corridor, just wide enough for them to fit into. It was dark but for a lamp on the far wall, throwing dim red light down the hall.

In the middle of the corridor, a brass ladder lead downward, underground. They exchanged a look. "That's not where we have to go," Penryn said.

Raffe walked toward it nonetheless. "By now, they'll know that we must've jumped off that train and they're likely to search the tunnels. And we can't go to Azabu Boulevard in your state. If this leads to the canalization, we'd have a large underground maze to throw them off, not to mention that many tunnels aren't monitored by any cameras. And we can't keep going for much longer. Your fever keeps rising."

"It's not that bad. We don't have time for another delay."

"Would you stop behaving like a stubborn child? You're not helping your sister if you're dead by the time you find out about her whereabouts."

He carefully let her down and inspected the brass ladder. Judging from the foul stench that wavered up from wherever it led, it likely did lead into the canalization. Raffe inspected the brass rungs. "Do you think you can climb down?"

Penryn pressed her lips together and nodded, setting the foot of her uninjured leg onto a rung. She pulled herself onto the ladder and, bracing herself, began climbing. She tried to put most of her weight onto her arms and right leg, so that her full body weight was never on her injured leg, but by the time that she reached the ground, boots landing in filth, her whole body was shaking from pain. Raffe landed beside her and looked around. A canalization indeed.

"Come on." Before she could protest, he had lifted her up again into his arms and she settled into it with a sigh, secretly relieved to have her weight off her leg.

They kept moving on in silence. The stench was nearly unbearably down here. It made her feel dizzy and nauseated. A cold sweat had broken out on her face, and though her skin felt hot to the touch, she was shivering.

"Your fever is getting higher." She looked up to meet Raffe's gaze on her. His face was cast in shadows, but she thought she could make out a look of concern.

"I…" she paused, to clear her throat, her voice a mere croak. "I don't feel particularly well, I must say. Can we take a break? Just for a few minutes?" She hated asking, hated admitting her vulnerability, but what he'd said earlier was true. She was no good to her sister like that.

Raffe nodded. He turned into a narrow side tunnel that served as a path for sewer worker and lowered her onto the ground. As soon as she tried to move, a wave of dizziness gripped her, swerving the world to the side for a moment. The walls and floor were dry here and so she slid down the wall to the ground and put a hand to her forehead, breathing deep against the wave of nausea. When she felt sure that she could talk without vomiting, she turned to Raffe again. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"We-" He stopped, body going still at once. Penryn's body tensed up in alarm, remembering his uncanny sense of threat from the train. But before she could ask what he'd heard, a flashlight beam blinded her.

"Freeze."

Her body turned to ice. The tiny part of her mind that wasn't overrun by fear noticed how Raffe subtly shifted his body in front of her.

Half a dozen people rounded the corner and crowded in the opening of the tunnel, only their dark outlines visible behind the glaring lights of their flashlights. After being in the half-dark for so long, the bright lights were painful in her eyes, and she lifted a hand to shield them.

"Hands up!" The man, who had issued the command, came closer, a flashlight aimed at them in the one hand, a gun in the other. A beat of silence followed in which he surveyed them. "What do we have here?"

Now that he was closer, Penryn could make out his features. He was tall and bulky, with an ordinary face and long, messy hair. His eyes were hard as he took them in.

"What are you two doing down here?" His voice held no trace of an accent. At least they weren't Guardians. Though that didn't mean that they weren't dangerous. "You two look like you're running from something."

Raffe and Penryn exchanged glances.

"And what's up with you?" The man peered down at her, still sitting against the wall, and Penryn was suddenly glad of Raffe's body between them. Though there wasn't much he could do against half a dozen armed men. A new fear crept into her.

"We're not looking for trouble," Raffe said. He seemed completely unfazed by the guns pointed at him. The man turned to him and Penryn caught the edge of a tattoo peeking out from his shirt's collar. She gasped.

He looked back at her, and then, realizing what she must've seen, reached up to touch the ink on his neck. It was partially covered, but it was a sign that was burned into her mind since she'd first seen it broadcasted on a hacked jumbo-tron. Sprayed on destroyed patrol vans. Painted against brick walls, large and blaring red, with a paint that no matter what they did, the Guardians couldn't remove.

The man grinned slightly as he took in her stunned expression. "You've heard of us, I see."

"Who hasn't?" Her voice was nothing more but a raw whisper, but at that moment, she didn't care for the scratching pain in her throat.

It was true. Though the news broadcasted nothing of it, every citizen of Jonum knew of the growing movement that was forming against the government. They made sure to leave their sign on their handiwork.

But Penryn had certainly never expected to come into personal contact with any of them.

Yet here they were, face-to-face with half a dozen members of the Resistance.

* * *

 **Ah, finally! It's always such a satisfying feeling to finish editing a chapter and publish it. And I've been waiting to get to this point *happy dance*. How could I write a dystopian society AU without having the Resistance in it? You'll find that there are a few differences in the Resistance here than in the book, as you can already see, they are much more well-known than in the book series. But you'll see...**

 **I wanted to thank you guys for your feedback and reviews, I love hearing what you think and it's really gratifying to read about your thoughts. I am so happy about every review or pm I receive, whether it's praise of criticism. So far, I've received overwhelmingly positive feedback and I couldn't be more happy about it, but that won't stop me from pushing myself to keep producing quality work and improving my writing. A few months after I've written something, I usually want to slap myself in the face when I reread it, lol. Anyway, thank you so much for letting me know what you think and don't ever stop doing that (Seriously. I'm threatening you!).**

 **~K.**

 **PS: Don't you worry, I've not abandoned It's Not The Fall That Kills You. It is sort of my load-off, drabble fic, where I neither plan nor really think about what I'll put down, but just explore ideas of an alternative ending. It's like relaxation to write that instead of a full plotted out story fic like BNWL.**


	7. Stalemate

**Stalemate**

They wanted to blindfold them.

„She can't walk." Raffe's voice sounded hard in the echoing tunnels.

The guy who'd done all the talking and appeared to be the leader of the troop shrugged. "I'll carry her."

„No." Penryn startled at the sharpness in Raffe's voice.

The leader paused and threw him a gauging look, having to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes. "You're not making the rules here."

"You're not touching her."

"You're either coming with us blindfolded or not at all. It looks like she could use our help, though." When Raffe's stony expression didn't change, he added, "I won't do anything inappropriate to your girl."

"Fine." Both men turned to Penryn at the sound of her voice. She pressed a hand to the wall and struggled to hoist herself up. "It looks like we have no other option."

She met Raffe's eyes and saw his disdain. She held his gaze for a moment, and whatever he must've seen in her face made him release a terse sigh and nod almost imperceptible. His body was tense as someone stepped behind him and put a rag of cloth over his eyes, but he made no move to stop them. The leader stepped closer to Penryn. "Turn around."

She bit her lower lip and slowly did what she was told. She had agreed to let them blindfold her, but she didn't feel good about this at all. They were completely helpless against these people and they had no idea who they were. Though, she supposed, if they didn't have their best interest in mind, it wouldn't matter anyway. Raffe and she were helplessly outnumbered and unarmed. And she couldn't run.

A rolled piece of cloth was put over her eyes and tied at the back of her head. A second later, masculine arms wrapped around her and she was lifted up. She did her best not to stiffen up, but feeling a stranger's hands on her, her body pressed into his hard chest, without being able to even see him, made alarm bells go off in her head. She breathed deeply to calm down.

"Don't worry." His voice was closer than she'd expected and she flinched in spite of herself. "I meant what I said to your friend. We're not the bad guys here."

The words echoed in her head as the group began moving. If these guys were really part of the Resistance, then they might be ruthless and violent, but they were indeed not the bad guys. It was the only movement that dared to strike back, the only instance of hope that the people of Jonum still had. Which was why the Guardians would never acknowledge them by mentioning them in news broadcasts or public announcements. According to the government, there was no threat.

But here they were, sabotaging government operations and spreading their signs all over the city, planting a seed of rebellion into the hearts of Jonum's citizens.

They were determined. Ruthless. And they'd kill them on the spot if they found out who Raffe was.

They walked for a long time. At first, Penryn tried to memorize the way, but soon she gave up, having lost all orientation. She began to suspect that they took so many turns and delays to throw Raffe and her off. It didn't help her dizziness. The tension had long drained out of her. At this point, she was fighting to stay awake. Her head felt light, in stark contrast to the leaden heaviness of her limbs. She knew that the air must be crisp cold down here, but she didn't feel the sting of it against her overheated skin.

By the time the group stopped, she had lost all sense of time and was barely conscious. Far away, she heard the muffled sound of stone scraping over stone and had the strange sense of being lifted into the air, and then she was floating, floating, and the weightlessness took her into the dark.

* * *

"…found them near the port in the canalization…"

"…was half dead… gave her an antibiotic…"

"… shouldn't have brought them in…"

Scraps of conversation pierced through the numbness, pulling at the delicious fog in her head until it slipped away and revealed the hard, hot pain underneath. The pulsing pain brought her back to her senses, and she opened her eyes with a groan. The voices fell silent. She blinked against the heaviness in her eyelids, grateful for her dimly lit surroundings. She had a feeling that bright light would feel like taking a knife to the head right now. She was lying on a small cot, looking up at a low ceiling, cables and wires hanging bare. She sat up gingerly, glad to be spared another roll of nausea. A small tube led from the crook of her arm to an infusion that languorously dripped a clear liquid.

Three people were standing around her. One of them was the guy who'd carried her, the other two – a man and a woman – she didn't recognize. The man was tall and lean, with military short hair and sharp eyes. Those eyes pierced through her and Penryn looked away, finding it much easier to meet the woman's thoughtful gaze.

"I see you're awake," the man said.

Penryn lifted one shoulder, as if to say _'obviously'_. The guy's hard gaze didn't change.

"What's your name?"

She hesitated, then said, "Penryn."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leant back against the naked concrete wall. There was a rifle slung over his shoulder casually, but something about his demeanor told her that he was no stranger to weapons and wouldn't hesitate to use his. "How did you end up in the canalization with a second stage sepsis and a bullet wound in the thigh?"

 _Ah, getting straight to the point_. Penryn decided to stick with the truth for now. "I was shot by a Guardian." This wasn't too uncommon. Civilians could get harmed easily enough if they were caught in the crossfire.

"When was this?"

"I… I don't know. 15 hours ago? Maybe more. How long have I been unconscious?"

Now the woman spoke up. In the dim electric light, her dark skin looked almost black. "About five hours. We put you on heavy antibiotics and intravenous drip. You were short of a renal failure. You don't happen to have the bullet that hit you, do you?"

Penryn snorted and leaned back on her hands. "I had more important things to do at that time."

"Like running from your persecutors?" The man was unrelenting.

Penryn sighed. "I got shot. We ran. Is that so hard to believe?"

She looked around. The room she was in appeared to be no more than a narrow crook, barely wide enough for one cot and her three visitors to stand in. A faint hum was in the air. Raffe was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is my friend?"

"He's fine. He has been interrogated in a separate room."

"I want to see him."

The guy pushed off the wall and watched the woman check the catheter in Penryn's arm.

"He's been saying the same thing for the last five hours." He shot the woman a look "Fitzroy?" She nodded. The light caught on a row of piercings that lined her right earlobe. Another ring adorned her nose.

"We'll bring you to him."

The woman, who was apparently Fitzroy, disconnected the I.V. tube and helped Penryn stand up. Only now did she realize that her clothes had been replaced by a long, shapeless shirt, the color a washed out grey. The dirty gauze around her thigh had been replaced by clean bandages. Her feet were bare.

Penryn was relieved to find that she could put weight on her left leg again without shaking from pain. Fitzroy put an arm under her shoulder and helped her hobble after the two men, who walked to the door. It swung open, and Penryn's jaw dropped.

The door opened up into a massive hall, the floor and wall made off the same naked concrete as her small room. Massive light bulbs hung under the high ceiling, shining pale white light down on at least a hundred people that were going about their business. A platform lined the walls above their heads, narrow bridges pulling through the width of the room to the other side of the wall. Penryn couldn't count all the doors that went off from the hall into other tunnels or rooms, but there were at least two dozen.

Now Penryn knew where the faint hum had come from before. In the far wall, a massive ventilator was embedded in the concrete, its huge blades spinning slowly behind a metal grid.

"What is this place?" she breathed disbelievingly.

Fitzroy snorted. "Telling you would defeat the purpose of blindfolding you on the way here."

They marched her to a door on the left side of the hall into a narrow corridor. The man with the sharp eyes, whose name she still didn't know, led the way to a door on the right and nodded to an armed guy that was standing in front of it like a guard. The guy opened the door and stepped aside to let them in.

The room was slightly bigger than her own had been, but Raffe's towering frame made it look cramped. There wasn't much space for him to pace the floor, but he seemed to have managed it anyway and stilled in his tracks now as he saw them approach. His gaze slipped over Mr. Sharp-Eye briefly before landing on Penryn with an intensity that made her want to squirm. His eyes raked over her, lingering on every bruise and scratch as if he was gauging the severity of every single one.

Penryn, not knowing what else to do with herself, stepped into the room to stand next to him. Raffe shifted, his arm brushing hers. She didn't understand why some of the tension seeped out of her muscles at his closeness, why the knot of anxiety lessened slightly as she felt the warmth radiating from him, but she knew that she had to suppress the inexplicable urge to lean closer to him and steal some more of his strength. It didn't make sense. He should be the enemy here. These guys were the good ones, the ones who were on her side and the side of her people, and yet, something inside her yearned to seek shelter from them by the side of this Guardian.

She noticed Mr. Sharp-Eyes scrutinizing gaze on them and straightened.

"As we told you, we haven't harmed her." It took Penryn a second to realize that the guy was talking to Raffe. Raffe didn't respond. "Anyway, I'll leave you two to your little reunion and get you something to eat. And then we'll talk."

He turned around and left the room, motioning for Fitzroy to follow him. They were left with the guard, who looked unsure what to do.

"He's charming," Penryn murmured dryly. The guard chuckled. "Who, Obi? I think he's as nice as can be expected to two complete strangers that have been brought into base."

"We didn't ask for it."

The guard didn't respond, apparently coming to the conclusion that it wasn't in his authority to give any further explanation. "I'll be outside." He closed the door with a warning look. Penryn caught Raffe roll his eyes when she turned to him.

"They've been like this the entire time. Playing soldier, acting tough." He sounded as if he was talking about children playing dress-up.

"You don't think they _are_ tough? Those guns looked pretty tough to me."

At that, Raffe's gaze, which had lingered on the closed door, snapped to her. "Did they hurt you?"

She shook her head wordlessly, surprised by the fierceness of his words. "I hate to admit it, but I think they saved my life. Said I was close to a renal failure. Apparently you were right about the poison. I had a severe sepsis."

A muscle in his jaw was working, but his voice was unexpectedly gentle as he asked "How are you feeling?"

She cleared her throat. "Better." The silence that followed felt awkward. "So what did they do to you?" Penryn asked.

Raffe shrugged. "Asked questions. Who we are, where we're from, the usual."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing."

She snorted. "You think they'll let us go soon?"

He turned to her. "I don't even know why they took us in. Seems mighty stupid for a secret, illegal organization to take two strangers into their base, show them their faces, insight on their operation. After all, you never know," a wry smile lifted the corners of his lips, "you could be talking to the enemy."

His words made Penryn feel cold all over. His tone had been ironical, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was a real threat in his words. _Why wouldn't there be? He owes my people nothing,_ she thought bitterly. She felt like slamming her fist through a wall. Or better, through him.

Before she could dwell on that thought any further, the door opened and Mr. Sharp-Eye – Obi, as the guard had called him – reappeared, two loafs of bread in his hands. He handed the bread to them and Penryn all but tore into the food, only now realizing how starved she was.

Obi leaned against the wall and watched them wolf down their meager meal in silence. Only when Penryn had gulped down the last bite did she realize that Raffe was holding out half of his share to her. She looked up at him in surprise to find him look at her with a stony expression. "Eat it," he said roughly. She hesitated, then took it from him, her hunger winning over her guilt. "Thank you," she murmured gratefully. He looked away abruptly.

 _Alright. Weird._

Obi was still watching them. Penryn wanted to break the uncomfortable silence but settled for nibbling on her bread instead, waiting for someone to say something. When nobody did, she heaved a sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Alright, what's this about? Giving us the silent treatment? If you got something to say, say it."

Obi seemed unfazed. "I was just watching you. You are quite strange, the pair of you. Found deep in the canalization, one with a life threatening blood infection, having escaped a patrol. And claiming to have jumped off a train at that. Either you are bold liars, or you're much more skilled than the average citizen."

Penryn shrugged. "We'd never lie." Which was a total lie.

"Are you from the Southern District?" They nodded in union.

Obi turned to Raffe. "As I suspected. You look like a dock worker with those muscles and tan."

Only now did Penryn realize that Raffe spoke as little as possible in front of the Resistance members, and she realized why. As subtle as his accent was, he was already looking foreign with his tanned skin and impressive build. Any slip of an accent and they'd know who he was. And then they were screwed.

"He's not the smartest," she hastened to say, ignoring the annoyed glare she received from the side. "And not very good with words. You know," she tried for a cheeky smile, "like most men."

That got a grin out of Obi. "Prefer to let your woman do the talking, eh?"

 _Great_ , Penryn thought. _Now they have some male bonding ground._

"Well, maybe you'll warm up a little while I accompany you to your room."

"Our room? You're keeping us here?"

Obi shrugged. "You didn't think we'd just let you walk out here, right? Tomorrow, the council will discuss what to do what to do with you."

He must've misunderstood the shock in Penryn's face, because he said, "Don't worry, we're not going to kill you. Most likely, you'll both get a good shot of Prop-4 and be dropped off somewhere a good distance from here. No harm done."

Penryn sucked in an audible breath. Prop-4 was a Propanolol-based substance that, in the right dosage, induced temporal retrograde amnesia, powerful enough to easily wipe out the last 48 hours of their life. And if there was anything that she couldn't afford right now, it was losing her memories of the last two days. She threw a look at Raffe, but apart from the tension in his whole body, he hadn't visibly reacted.

"Alright, follow me." Obi turned around and walked out of the door. After another second of shock, Penryn made to follow him. Raffe was closely behind her, so close that she didn't notice the other armed soldier at the rear until they stopped in front of another small room, barely large enough to fit the two cots that had been crammed inside.

"You'll understand that we will put you under guard for the night. If you have to use the bathroom during the night, knock on the door and you will be escorted to the bathroom and back again." Obi stepped aside to let them walk into the room. Penryn reluctantly did, sitting down on one of the hard cots. Raffe walked into the room after her but remained standing.

"I advice you not to try anything stupid," Obi said. "It would make the whole situation entirely more uncomfortable for all of us."

She nodded numbly and Obi gave her a small smile. "You'll be alright. Try to sleep. You're still weak from the infection." She nodded again, more out of reflex than actual agreement, and saw Raffe bristle from the corner of her eye. When the door closed, leaving them in darkness but for a small rectangle of light falling through a window in the door, she turned to him. "We're screwed."

Raffe was still looking at the door, his face dark. "Are we?"

"If they give us Prop-4, we are. We can't afford to lose the last 48 hours. Two days ago my life was a lot different from now."

"And here I thought you were doing these kinds of things all the time." Raffe's voice was dry.

 _I certainly don't make a habit out of traveling with Guardians. Or sharing a bed with one…_ She blushed at the thought and was suddenly thankful for their dim surroundings.

"So, should we, like, try to escape?"

It was just light enough for her to catch him shake his head. "There's a guard stationed outside our door. He might not be a problem, but his rifle certainly is. And the whole place is swarming with wannabe soldiers. We'd never make it out." He laid down on his cot. "It's probably best to try and get some sleep."

She looked incredulous at the vague dark shape that was his head. "I don't think I can. I'm too anxious."

He sighed. "Obi was right, you're still weak. You've been half dead a few hours ago. Sleep will do you some good."

"What will do me some good is getting out of here and finding out about my sister's whereabouts as soon as possible. And I thought you had no time to lose in finding your rifle and setting things straight with your people?"

There was a beat of silence and then another sigh and then his silhouette seemed to be sitting up and leaning toward her. She gasped in surprise when his hand suddenly touched her cheek.

"You're still feverish," he said quietly. His voice was slightly hoarse and for some reason, it sent shivers down her back. His hand was cold on her cheek, which might be due to the fact that she _was_ still feverish, but it didn't feel unpleasant. His fingers were calloused and rough, but his touch was had the sudden urge to lean into his touch. She pulled away abruptly. "I'm fine."

He was still for a moment, almost hesitant, and then he pulled back and laid back down, rolling onto his side. "There's nothing we can do right now, Penryn. So sleep. Or at least, let me sleep."

She glared at his dark form, but he was oblivious to it, his breathing quickly turning deep and even. With a sigh, she laid down as well, her bones heavy with sleep, despite her anxiety. She listened to Raffe's breaths, strangely aware of his body only half a foot next to hers. The last thought that she had before she fell asleep was that she would only have to reach out her arm to touch him.

* * *

She was still asleep when Raffe woke up. Like most times, transitioning from sleep to alertness didn't take him a long time, so he threw the thin covers off and sat up. It couldn't have been later than six in the morning, but there was bustle on the other side of the door that told him that the people here were already up and working.

He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders to shake of the tension in his muscles. His gaze fell on the cot beside him. The girl was still sleeping, curled on her side with her knees pulled to her chest, facing him. Her lips were slightly parted, softly sloped, her face slack. He was relieved to see that the sickly grayish tone to her skin had disappeared and some color had returned to her cheeks. Although he didn't like the thought of these people putting her on any meds, whatever they'd given her seemed to be working.

He let out a deep breath, annoyed with himself for his wandering thoughts. He wasn't supposed to care and it irritated him to no end that he didn't seem to be able to stop her from getting under his skin. What was it about her that constantly caught his attention? He supposed that she was a remarkably resourceful girl, and he could've ended up with a far worse companion, but that didn't explain the unexpected concern he had felt when she'd been shot.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. He wasn't used to caring and it was certainly frustrating.

Someone was talking in front of their door. Raffe jumped off of the cot, tension returning to his muscles as he readied to face whoever would greet them behind the door. He doubted that they were in any immediate danger, but in an unknown environment, more or less trapped in a situation that could turn _very_ hostile _very_ fast, it was a natural reaction of his body to prepare himself for a fight. He reached a hand out softly touch Penryn's shoulder to wake her. She startled out of her slumber as soon as he touched her.

"Wha-"

"Shh." He hushed her with a stern look. His eyes wandered from her to the door and she followed his gaze, sitting up as she heard the voices outside. She slid from her cot to stand beside him, and he could feel that she, too, was full of tension. Good for her.

"What do we do if they try to give us the Prop-shots?" she murmured under her breath.

"We won't let them."

"And if they won't bother to ask for permission first?" Her voice was drier than dry. He was pleasantly surprised by her ability to resort to sarcasm even in a situation like this. Almost as much as he was annoyed by it.

"Then we'll improvise."

As if on cue, the door swung open and they were greeted by the sight of a very unintimidating, very bored-looking guard. "Follow me," he muttered. "I'll show you the dining hall." Without waiting for a response he spun around and marched down the hall. Penryn and Raffe exchanged a look before following the guy. It was clear by his careless attitude that he thought that escorting them around was beneath him. They followed him through a little maze of corridors, and Raffe once again wondered how a once small group of resistance fighters could have bloomed into such a well-equipped organization under the regime.

"There we are." The guard stepped aside to reveal a wide hall with low ceilings, crammed with tables and chairs that were almost all occupied. "You can get in line for breakfast over there." He pointed to a quickly growing queue on the right side of the room. When neither of them responded, he shrugged and turned around, walking away without another word.

Penryn gave a more or less helpless shrug. "Should we, you know, get in line?"

Raffe didn't like the idea of either of them eating anything that this people gave them, but they both needed the energy and there was no telling when would be the next time they'd get something to eat.

"Alright."

The eyes that followed them through the hall didn't go unnoticed by either of them. Penryn crossed her arms in front of her chest and drummed her fingers anxiously against her forearm. She was still wearing the long, gray shirt that these people had put her in, and though the hem skimmed just below her knee, he didn't like the way that it exposed her legs in a place like this. These guys could claim that they were the good ones all they wanted, but they were still a bunch of lawless men and he didn't want any of their attention on Penryn.

 _There you go again with the caring,_ he scolded himself. _Stop fretting over the girl, she's not yours to protect._

Though, he supposed, as long as they travelled together, they could watch each other's back. That was all.

"So you guys are the two renegades that were freshly picked up from the canalization." A redhead in front of them had turned around and grinned at them. His freckled face was slightly sunburnt, the tips of his ginger hair paler than the roots, which gave him a sort of boyish look. Like most people here, he was dressed in dark, robust looking clothes. Raffe guessed that he was around Penryn's age, maybe a bit older.

"Looks like we are," Penryn said, looking the boy up and down. "And you are?"

"Dee. Pleasure to meet you. Unfortunately, new recruits are rarely pretty girls, so I'm more than happy to welcome you here."

"We're not recruits," Penryn said surprised. Dee waved a hand dismissively. "You're about to eat our amazing breakfast, right? And more importantly, you still remember what happened in the last 48 hours. Sounds like recruits to me."

He turned away from them to receive a bowl of what looked like gray slime from a guy behind the counter. Raffe and Penryn each received an equal bowl of slime.

"Lovely breakfast." Dee waved for them to follow him and together they sat down at one of the few empty tables.

"They said they'd be deciding what to do with us today," Penryn said, watching Dee dig into his meal. Raffe could see in the gauging look that she threw the redhead that she was hoping to gain some information about what was in store for them.

"Oh, I don't think they will," Dee said and motioned for them to eat their meal. Penryn and Raffe both hesitantly brought a spoon of the white slime to their mouth. It tasted like nothing, which was better than Raffe had hoped.

"What _is_ that?" Penryn asked and watched the slime drop from her spoon back into her bowl.

"It's a mix of all nutrients that the human body needs," Dee answered with his mouth full. "It's not exactly delicious, but it keeps you alive and going."

"Right. And why do you not think that they will decide about our fate today?" Raffe asked.

Dee leaned back in his seat and grinned. "Because, Mr. Tough, you two are runaways that managed to escape a patrol despite a bullet wound and blood poisoning, and – if you were telling the truth – by jumping off a moving train at that. Also," he added with a look in Raffe's direction. "You look like you could break a guy's neck with a flick of the wrist. Sounds like a wet dream for any Resistance. You two are A+ recruiting material."

Raffe sighed and leaned back in his seat. Great. "Kind of careless to just keep two strangers around in your secret base," Raffe said. He could feel Penryn tense next to him.

Dee, however, didn't seem concerned. "Who said that this is our base?" With that, he let his spoon drop into his now empty bowl with a clang and pushed away from the table. "Well, enjoy your breakfast."

He winked at Penryn and turned around to go on his way, walking with a little bounce in his steps.

"What the hell."

Raffe turned to look at Penryn, who'd turned pale – if it was even possible to be paler than she already was. "Do you think he was telling the truth? That they're not planning on sending us on our way?"

He shoved his bowl away from him and sighed. "I think so. Sounds like they're trying to hold us here long enough to convince us of joining."

Penryn pulled her hands through her hair, letting it fall back onto her shoulder in a silky dark curtain. "Well, we can't stay here."

"Oh really?"

She threw him a dark look. "I'm serious, Raffe. This doesn't concern you at all?"

"I'm trying to think of a way to get out of here, but moping won't help. Right now, all we can do is play along until we come up with a plan. Or an opportunity presents itself."

Penryn's lips pressed together in a thin line, her dark eyes huge and filled with anxiety in her dainty face. He felt his annoyance melt into a sudden flare of protectiveness.

"Hey." He reached out and tugged on a strand of hair that had slipped away from behind her ear and now hung into her face. She glared at him and that was so much better than seeing that shimmer of fear in her eyes. "We're going to get out of here. Soon, okay? Right now, we have to play along." He was surprised to hear how soft his voice was, and even more surprised to see the tense lines in her face lessen slightly. "Just… trust me, okay?"

The moment the words escaped him, he wanted to take them back. She would never, could never, trust him, a Guardian, who was part of the regime that suppressed her people. It was a stupid thing to say, stupid and probably insulting, and he internally prepared for her to recoil and close up again, like he'd seen her do plenty of times now.

She didn't. Instead, she looked at him, still anxious but decidedly more determined. "Okay."

* * *

 **Well, hello there. I'm just peeking out from behind the tree I've decided to hide behind. I know it's been SO long, but then again, I think I've rarely ever written a chapter that breaks the 5k word limit, so well... at least you've got that, which is nice. Anyway, since my longest finals period (and my vacation) is now over, I have a few weeks off, which means that I can write a lot more. And hopefully update much quicker. If anyone's still there or still interested in this story, let me know. And let me know what you think of this chapter.  
**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **~K.**


	8. Among Wolves

**Among Wolves**

Since neither Raffe nor Penryn knew what to do, they stayed at their table in the dining hall. It didn't take long for their escort guard to find them again, this time accompanied by the troop leader that had found them in the canalization. He gave a curt nod as greeting.

"I don't think we've gotten the chance at properly introducing ourselves. I'm Brendan." He reached out his hand for them to shake, which Penryn did. Raffe ignored it. If Brendan was irked by Raffe's refusal to shake hands, he didn't show.

"You," he said to their guard, who lost some of his bored demeanor at being addressed by him, "accompany our man here to the sanitary areas and make sure they pick out fitting clothes for both of them." He turned to Penryn. "You'll come with me. Fitzroy wants to check on your wound."

"I'll come with her then," Raffe said sternly. He didn't seem happy about the news that they were being separated again.

"You'll be reunited soon again, don't worry." Brendan's tone sounded mildly amused. "Fitzroy only wants to make sure that the wound is healing up nicely and then she'll be send into the sanitary areas right along. It's time you two clean up. Quite frankly, you stink."

* * *

Penryn followed Brendan through a maze of sparsely lit corridors. She wondered how big this place was. So far, Dee's suspicion that the Resistance wasn't planning on sending them away seemed to prove true. Why else should they provide them with clothes and a shower? She didn't have time to dwell on it further, because Brendan stopped in front of a metal door and rapped his knuckles against it twice. A few moments later, the door slid open and Brendan stepped aside and motioned for Penryn to go in.

The place looked like a makeshift medical room, the floor and walls tiled, a metal examination table in the center, surrounded by smaller tables and trays stacked with medical equipment. A door in the far wall lead to another room that seemed to be crammed full of drawers and shelves holding various bottles and packs. Seemed they had quite a stock of drugs and remedies. Since it was virtually impossible to smuggle medical supplies from pharmacies of hospitals without the government noticing – she had thoroughly investigated this after Paige's accident – Penryn suspected that there had been much more cargo raids than the Guardians had let the citizens believe.

Fitzroy rose from an uncomfortable looking swivel chair and gestured in the direction of the examination table. "Please take off your pants and sit down. I'd like to have a look at your leg."

Penryn, making sure that the door had closed behind her, reluctantly obeyed. Cool air hit her legs, making her shiver. She hauled herself up onto the examination table and stretched out her injured leg.

Fitzroy unwrapped the bandages around her thigh with quick, skilled hand movements, revealing a pink, mostly healed wound on Penryn's thigh.

"How could this have healed that quickly?" Penryn asked astonished.

"We gave you a cell growth accelerator to speed up the healing process. Pretty good stuff. You can say what you want about them, but the Guardian's have some real advance in the medical and technical field. They are years ahead of us."

Fitzroy examined the wound for a few moments, then walked over to a table and started preparing a syringe.

"Where did you get all of these medical supplies?"

Fitzroy held up the syringe and pressed out a few drops of the liquid inside to make sure that it contained no air. She winked at Penryn. "We have our ways. Don't think we're the scattered little group of rebels that the government wants you to think of when you hear of us. We're well organized, skilled and determined."

Her tone could've been mistaken as gloating, but Penryn saw the scrutinizing glance that Fitzroy threw her as she stepped close, as if she was gauging her reaction. She said nothing, concentrating on the sting of the needle penetrating her skin as Fitzroy injected the content of the syringe into her leg.

"Nice of you to waste precious supplies on strangers," Penryn finally said when Fitzroy pulled the needle out of her skin and handed Penryn her pants.

"That's the reason we're here."

Penryn snorted. "Come on. I know the Resistance is trying to free Jonum's citizens from the regime and I'm one hundred percent down with that, really, I think you guys are the last ray of hope that we have, but don't try to act as if you're good Samaritans. Like any resistance movement, you are trying to overthrow the government by force, so please don't act as if helping innocent civilians is more important to you than gathering forces and building an army."

The corner of Fitzroy's lips quirked. "You are right, Penryn. We're not good Samaritans and I never claimed that we are. Most of our efforts are put into gathering people that are willing and able to fight, training them, arming them. We are gathering forces. _This_ however," she spread her arms and gestured around her, "is a facility that serves mainly as a kind of refugee camp, a small base that is used to collect and shelter civilians, refugees and anyone else that is willing to join our cause."

Penryn frowned at the words 'small base'. From what she'd seen, this place was huge. Dee's words crossed her mind, how nobody had said that this place was the Resistance's main base. If that was true, it made a lot more sense that they had taken them in so easily. It also meant that the Resistance was much bigger than she had ever dared to hope. _How long has this been going on? How many are there?_

"But why?" she finally asked. "Why bother wasting so many precious supplies on refugees and civilians? Don't you need people that are able to fight for your cause?"

Fitzroy sat down on her swivel chair and turned around to scribble something in a small book that laid on the desk in front of her. "Many people that we take in decide to join forces eventually. Others serve other purposes, whether they come with a profession that is helpful to us, like doctors or technicians, or adapt to their new jobs and become couriers, workers, cooks, whatever they are good at. Everyone plays a part here. If you decide to stand up for your country and _do something_ , we won't reject you."

 _She's good,_ Penryn thought. _She's really good._ There was real conviction in her voice, a passion that carried through a natural charisma that this woman possessed. She had leadership quality, that much was clear, and for a moment, Penryn couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the possibility of her words, by the thought of joining something bigger, something with meaning.  
But she wasn't stupid and she also saw the sharp intelligence in Fitzroy's eyes, the determination to carry through her mission whatever the cost. Strength was in numbers,and these people were smart to gather as many followers as possible, but Penryn didn't doubt for a second that should someone not be able to 'serve a purpose', the Resistance wouldn't be so openhearted toward them.

Penryn closed her pants and climbed off the examination table, giving Fitzroy a noncommittal smile. "I wish you the best of luck."

* * *

The lukewarm water cascading down her back was the best feeling Penryn had experienced in a long time. The shower stalls weren't much more than tiny, dimly lit shacks and all she had was a small piece of soap to clean herself with, but it still felt so good to wash off all the sweat and blood from her body. For the first time in the last few days, the muscles in her back relaxed a little bit.

Water time was limited to two minutes per person, but Penryn was determined to make the most out of it. She tipped her head back and rinsed the soap out of her hair. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend that she was in her family's apartment, trying to savor the last drops of warm water before going to bed. Oh how she missed her bed. Her nice, comfortable, sheltered bed.

A warning sound alerted her that her last ten seconds were counting down. She stood still with her face turned up until the stream of water cut off. Sighing, Penryn swiped her wet hair out of her face and grabbed a small rough towel. Her skin was still clammy when she pulled on the clothes that she'd been given. The pants were a snug fit, much unlike the shirt, which felt like it was two sizes too big. All clothes here seemed to be made of the same grey thermo material, and while they might be hideous, it sure was practical, so she wasn't complaining.

She swung the bathroom door open and started at the sight of Brendan leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and obviously waiting for her. He grinned apologetically when he saw her flinch in surprise. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. However, I'm sure you understand that we can't let you walk around unguarded. At least not yet."

 _Not yet, huh? So they_ are _trying to keep us here._ Penryn squared her shoulders and stepped out of the shower stall. "Where's my friend?"

Brendan rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Well, you two just don't like being apart from each other, do you? Don't worry, they should be here any minute now."

As if on cue, two tall figures rounded the corner, their voices carrying over to where Penryn and Brendan was standing. Penryn recognized Obi's voice as he was talking animatedly about the facility. As they came closer, she saw that the other man was Raffe, though she had recognized that by the broad, tense set of his shoulders and his stoic silence anyway.

Like her, he had been given a fresh pair of grey clothes and his hair was wet. His eyes landed on her and stayed, taking in her appearance. Penryn felt a pang of awkwardness as his gaze lingered on her. She gave him a tentative smile and immediately felt stupid for it. He averted his eyes.

Obi nodded at them in greeting. "Well now that you don't reek of canalization anymore, how about a little tour of the place? Might even find you something to make yourself useful until we decide what to do with you."

The next forty minutes, Penryn and Raffe followed Obi through the facility, listening to him describe different areas and tasks that needed to be done in order to uphold order. He never touched on anything really important, certainly nothing that could be used as military advance, but it quickly became clear that he was quite proud of what they had build up here. Penryn had taken to remain mostly silent, like Raffe, observing her surroundings and pondering Obi's words. Though she wouldn't admit it in front of Raffe, she couldn't quell the excitement at what she was seeing of the Resistance. It looked as if they could actually achieve something. If this whole ordeal was over, this might be a place where she could actually help to change how things were.

As soon as the thought popped up, she dismissed it. She had enough on her plate as it was. Any plans regarding saving the country would have to wait until she had cared for her family.

After Obi was done with his tour, both Penryn and Raffe were assigned tasks that should keep them occupied until dinner time. While Raffe was ushered off to help a group of workers with any back-breaking job that required no brain and some muscle, Penryn was spared heavy physical work due to her recent injury and spend the rest of the day with the painfully boring task of scrubbing grey food slime off plates and bowls. It was a mind-numbing task and by the time that all dishes were cleaned off goo, her neck and shoulders were aching from the hunched position that she'd been standing in. Judging from the amount of dishes that she alone had had to clean, there had to be over two hundred people in this facility.

She wolfed down a plate of dried meat and canned vegetables in the dining hall. Raffe was nowhere to be seen, so she sat alone at a table, glad that nobody seemed to care about her presence. If what Fitzroy had said was true, it shouldn't be too uncommon for these people to see a new face now and then.

When she saw Brendan making his way through the hall toward her, she was almost relieved.

"Ready to go back to your room and get some rest? Fitzroy said you should cut it short today. You're still healing."

"Are you my escort now?"

His lips quirked. "I can only dream. Sure as hell would be a nicer job than scouting the canalization every night."

Penryn stood and followed him out of the hall. "Is that what you do? Scout the canalization?"

"Partly. My troop scouts various areas, but we're also on a circulating watch guarding our territory. When you two showed up on our radar stumbling around, we were on duty to investigate. It's your luck. Not everyone would've taken you in."

Penryn watched the back of his head as she walked behind him. His long hair was tied into a ponytail, the edge of his tattoo peeking out over the collar of his shirt. Even partially covered, Penryn knew the sign well. It was simple, not more than two parallel jagged lines, but it held enough meaning to induce a feeling of intimidation in her. "And why did you?"

He threw her a glance over his shoulder. "I believe in our cause here. We need as many people as possible if we want to achieve something. Plus, it's the right thing to do." His voice was so weary that Penryn wondered if he'd uttered those words multiple times already. Like in an argument he was tired of having.

They stopped in front of the plain metal door that lead to their temporary room. Brendan unlocked the door and pushed it open. He smiled apologetically as Penryn walked into the crammed space. "I'm afraid I'll have to lock you in for the night. Don't take it personal."

"It's alright. A lock is easier than wasting men on guard for two people, huh?"

Brendan smirked. "You'd fit right in with that sharp mind. I have a feeling it was the right decision to take you in. We need people that understand the importance of efficiency."

Penryn hopped onto her bunk and tentatively reciprocated his smile. It hadn't been a demonstration of wits that she'd been after, but Brendan didn't need to know that.

He closed the door and a second later, she heard the telltale 'click' of the lock.

She sighed and leaned back on her bunk, crossing her arms behind her head. The lock looked and sounded like a mechanic lock, and nothing special either. It wouldn't be difficult to pick. And now she knew that there were no guards posted outside their door.

She threw a glance at the empty bunk beside her. Where was Raffe? She hadn't seen him since they got separated. For now, all she could do was wait. She closed her eyes, exhaustion already washing over her. She'd rest until Raffe came back. And then they were getting the hell out of here.

* * *

All around him, men were groaning and complaining about the hard work. They'd spent the last few hours hauling boxes and packages from storage rooms into different areas of the facility or vice versa, and now their shoulders were stiff and tight, their muscles hardened by labor. Raffe didn't feel half as fatigued as most of them sounded, but he, too, rolled his shoulders and neck and shook out his arms. Partly to relieve tension, partly to not draw attention. He kept to himself, not speaking with anyone unless it was necessary, and until now that had worked well for him.

"Hey, newbie!"

The words were undoubtedly addressed at him. Raffe looked up to see a burly man with a bull neck and dirty reddish hair slowly walk up to him. He was smiling, but Raffe had enough experience as a soldier to know when someone was hostile. He remained seated on a wooden box that he'd carried into the storage room only minutes before.

"You're a quiet one, eh?" The burly man said. Raffe was almost sure that he'd heard someone call him Gred. "Don't like talking to strangers?"

Raffe shrugged.

"Well, maybe you'll be more chummy at a little nightcap?"

Raffe noticed that a lot of the other workers were watching them. Or rather, him. He was the new guy after all. He looked back at Gred, who scrutinized him in a somewhat threatening manner. He shrugged. "Why not."

He followed the group of workers into what looked like a gym hall. A large portion of the floor was covered by mats and racks of weights lined the wall. The redhead they'd met the other day at lunch had setup a makeshift bar in one corner of the room, where he handed out dirty glasses of some sharp smelling booze he'd probably brewed himself for a little coin. Raffe accepted a glass like pretty much everyone else and downed half of it, unmoved by the harsh taste. He noticed bullnecked Gred watch him, probably looking for some excuse to call him out, and almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Here he was, after years of working his way up the ladder in the military, proving himself to some of the most ruthless and brutal people he knew, and now he was going out of his way to fit in with a row of wannabe soldiers playing tough. He took another sip of his glass. The taste helped him keep the smirk off his lips.

It quickly became evident that the after-work drink didn't just involve lounging around and drinking booze. A circle of people was starting to form around the mats, two men already at it's center, squaring up against each other under shouts of encouragement from the audience.

The scrawny redhead stopped handing out booze and began accepting bills with what looked like bets on them, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He noticed Raffe's gaze and winked. "It's a living, I'm telling you. This after-work get-together is tradition here now. Best idea me and my brother ever had!"

"I bet."

When the two men in the ring began fighting, the circle of onlookers grew too dense for Raffe to see something from his position by the bar, so he turned away in boredom. How long would he have to stay here until he could retreat to his room without drawing attention? He didn't care what these people thought about him, but if any of them grew suspicious of him or Penryn, they were in a world of trouble.

"You don't care about the fight?" It was Gred again. He was surrounded by a group of men, his stance loosened by alcohol and confidence. "Can't stand the sight of blood?"

This guy was seriously starting to piss him off. Raffe said nothing. An annoyed look flashed across Gred's face, who seemed disappointed at the lack of opportunity to show off. He walked closer to Raffe, taking a sip of his drink. "You don't talk much, eh, newbie? You know what I think of that? I think it's fucking annoying. What's up with you? Are you deranged maybe?" A few men behind him laughed and his lips pulled into a nasty grin. "Or maybe you think you're something better? Tell me, guys," he looked over his shoulder at his pals, who were watching with interest, eager for a fight, "does he look like something better?"

Shouts of disagreement. Gred turned back to Raffe. "Thought so. You're not better than us. You're just a big idiot that swallowed his tongue. And apparently can't even stand the sight of a fight. So an idiot _and_ a pussy."

Raffe sighed and downed the rest of his glass before turning away in disinterest. He didn't bother to say more than two words to this cretin. "Fuck off."

His persistent refusal to be intimidated by Gred's alpha male attitude seemed to rile the other men up further, whose face took on an ugly shade of violet. Raffe set his glass down and pushed it away, prepared to dodge an inept blow should Gred loose his temper.

However, his opponent seemed to regain some of his composure, forcing that ugly smirk back on his face. "I gotta say, though. You might be a useless moron, but that girl they brought in with you? Man, she's usable for sure. Am I right?" He looked back at his companions, who laughed and proclaimed their agreement with a few shouts and whistles. Raffe felt himself tense involuntarily.

"I mean, I'm usually not into those tiny ladies, you know? I prefer my women to have some meat on them. But still, pretty face, great legs. And the small size has its own appeal, don't you agree? Makes it easier to keep a tight hold on them with one hand. Although it would probably make it easier for her to slip away-" He was cut off as Raffe grabbed him and slammed him against the bar. " _Shut the fuck up_!"

Gred laughed, content to finally get what he wanted. "Aw man, come on. No hard feelings, alright? We're all friends, right? So it's only normal that you share your nice things with us. Don't be so fucking selfish, man! Not all of us have such a nice plaything to help them wind down after a hard day of work. I'm sure we'd all be much happier if you could lend her out some times-" This time he was cut off by Raffe's fist slamming into his stomach. It knocked the wind out of him, making him double over. His companions moved to rush to his aid, but hesitated at the murderous look on Raffe's face. He drew his fist back for another punch, this one aimed at his opponents face, but the redhead behind the bar interrupted him. "Hey, not here! If you want a fight, carry it out in the ring. Or don't do it at all!"

Raffe didn't feel like carrying out this fight in a ring. He felt like pummeling Gred's face in and then move on to his group of friends. His blood was drumming in his ears, his muscles taught and ready for a fight, his body spurred on by his wrath. This was familiar to him. All it needed was a trigger, a switch to set his body into fight mode, and his muscles would react accordingly. Whether he was driven by the flush of battle, or fueled by hot anger. Though the latter wasn't often the case.

He took a deep breath and released his grip on Gred's shirt, letting the fool drop to his knees. It wouldn't do him any good to loose his temper in front of these men, no matter what primitive pigs they were. But if he could give this guy a beating if only he dragged him a few feet into the center of the room, all the better.

"Fine," he said, his voice cold and hard. "The ring then."

* * *

Penryn had grown restless. She'd woken to find the bunk beside her still empty. She'd lost her sense of time, something that she was cursing herself for now, but she was fairly sure that it was past work time and Raffe should be back by now.

She refused to call the gnawing feeling inside her worry. If she was worried about something, it was the plan. She needed him and the alliance to have a shot at finding out what happened to her sister. She was merely practical, nothing else.

With a sudden zest for action she jumped off her bunk and pushed the creaky mattress off the metal corpus. She grabbed a helical bedspring and bend it with all the strength she could muster, until it broke off. She scraped and sawed her fingertips trying to bend the spring straight, and when she finally managed it, her fingers were bloodied. She inspected her makeshift lockpick. The metal was thick. But judging the rustic lock at her door, it would do.

Still, it took her longer than expected. After almost three full minutes, the satisfying _click_ of a lock opening finally sounded and she tugged her new lockpick into the back of her trousers. Slowly, as soundlessly as possible, she pushed open the door, listening to any human sounds in the hallway. Nothing. She pushed the door open just wide enough to poke her head out and when she'd assured herself that the hallway was empty, she slid out, closing the door behind her. If nobody came checking, they shouldn't find out that she'd escaped her room until morning.

She moved slowly through the maze of corridors, stopping at every corner to look out for guards or cameras before moving into the next hallway. Now that she was out of her room, she realized how headless her escape had been. She had no idea where Raffe might was and the facility was huge. Where was she supposed to start looking for him?

She was considering her options, when someone tapped her shoulder from behind, nearly startling her to death. She whirled around, coming face to face with the scrawny redhead they'd met at lunch.

"Dee. Christ, you scared the hell out of me."

The boy raised his eyebrows. "I see you've already encountered my brother."

"Your… what?"

"I don't think we've met yet. We're short on pretty chicks like you here, so I'm sure I'd remember you."

Penryn stared at him, pondering his words. He looked completely identical to the guy they'd met in the dining hall. Then again, she didn't really know him well enough to detect small differences. "You are twins?"

"You're a quick one, aren't you? You can call me Dum. Or Dee if you can't keep us apart."

She said nothing. Dum grinned and leaned casually against the wall beside him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "So what are you doing here sneaking around at this hour? I reckon you ought to be in that cell of yours?"

"I…" She struggled to come up with an excuse, but failed. "I'm looking for my friend."

"The big guy they brought in with you? Well, if he's not back at the room, he's probably chilling with the other guys. I can bring you there, if you want." He winked at her.

Penryn stared at him. She didn't trust this scarecrow and his mischievous grin, but what choice did she have? He could've just sounded the alarm and she would've been screwed.

"Alright. Bring me to him."

They made their way through several more hallways. Penryn tried to memorize the layout while they passed corridor after corridor, but Dum's chatter was distracting her and she struggled to imprint it into her memory. How big was this place?

After several minutes, a new sound mixed in with Dum's idle babbling. Down the hallway, she heard shouts and whistles, savage sounds that made the hairs on her arms rise. Wherever they were going, there was a big crowd, and it was going wild.

She followed Dum through metal double doors into a large hall packed with people, most of which had gathered in a large circle around the center of the room. The crowd was jostling and cheering, spurred on by blood lust. The sharp scent of alcohol hung in the air.

Penryn crossed her arms in front of her, then dropped them to her sides again as she realized that it would make her look vulnerable. She'd been to enough bad places to know the sounds of a crowd getting riled up by a good fight. She found it hard to believe that Raffe was one of the onlookers, but then again, what did she really know of him? She slipped into the mass of moving bodies, shoving her way through the crowd, craning her neck to look out for Raffe. She cursed her small size. All she could see was sweaty torsos, too close and too many. Someone grabbed at her and she delivered a blind elbow jab in the direction, satisfied when it connected with a warm body and the hold on her loosened.

Through the rows of people in front of her, she caught glimpse of one of the fighters, a broad man with a swollen shut eye who was just being tossed to the ground. She saw a flash of the back of his opponent's head as he bent down to haul the man up again, before someone moved in front of her and blocked the sight. Urgency gripped her. She couldn't be sure, but that head of thick black hair looked familiar. She pushed through the people with renewed vigor, making her way toward the front row, where the audience had an excellent view of the fight. Someone shoved her and she all but stumbled the last few steps into the inner row of the circle.

There he was, arms bare, muscles rippling, knuckles reddened from what was undoubtedly his opponents blood. She watched as Raffe delivered a swift kick to his opponent's torso, who was already lying motionlessly on the ground. The crowd around her cheered.

"What the hell?" she hissed. She'd spoken to no one in particular, but a guy beside her seemed to feel addressed, because he leaned down to her, never taking his eyes of the fight, and shouted over the noise. "The guy's freaking amazing. He just made short work of four guys in a row. None lasted longer than a couple of minutes. That dude's a freaking monster."

"Yeah, you're right about that," Penryn murmured as she watched two guys drag the unconscious men out of the ring. A familiar figure stepped into the center, his red hair shining brightly in the glaring light of an overhead light. Dee spread his arms as if he was soaking up the crowd's wild approval. "Ladies and gentleman, I think we can all agree that our newbie is the uncontested star of this night. It's not every day we bear witness to moves this skilled. Let's hear it for our man!" The crowd cheered wildly.

Raffe seemed unaffected by it, shaking the blood off his hand with a look of indifference.

"Now," Dee turned back to Raffe with the face of a dog owner talking to his newly prized pup. "I know it might be hard to find a new opponent for you, since the last guy you challenged seems to have ran off after your last performance-" The audience booed. "But I'm sure there's a brave lad in this crowd just waiting to prove himself to the audience. Let's see how you fare in a fight where you _didn't_ pick the opponent."

The boos turned into cheers as the audience felt another fight coming. People were shouting names and suggestions, riling each other up. Again, Raffe didn't seem to care, as he simply shook his head and said evenly. "No. I'm done."

This time, the boos were even louder, with a distinct sound of aggression to them. Now that the audience had had a taste of blood, they were eager for more. Raffe ignored it.

He lazily let his eyes glide over the crowd, idly assessing them. When his gaze brushed Penryn, his body tensed. Penryn couldn't tell if it was shock or anger that tightened his face, but it was obvious he wasn't happy to see her. Well, the feeling was mutual.

Dee was saying something to Raffe, trying to persuade him to perform in another fight, eager to turn this night into a goldmine. What the redhead got out of these fights, Penryn didn't know, but she suspected he and his brother made some profit out of these situations. Raffe shook his head again and pulled his arm from the Dee's grip. "No," he repeated, already moving toward Penryn. "I'm done."

She expected him to say something, to scold her for coming here or explain himself to her, but he simply grabbed her arm and dragged her through the mass of people, many of which tried to shove him back in the center of the ring. He shoved his way through the crowd dominantly, never relenting his grip on Penryn's arm as she stumbled behind him. Only when they reached the deserted hallway outside did she feel like she could breath again. Raffe kept on walking, moving briskly down the hallway, though he had released her arm now that she was following him on her own accord. He rounded a corner, before stopping and turning to her.

"What were you thinking? What are you doing here?" Considering his forceful departure, his voice was relatively calm. He seemed rattled, though, pulling his hand through his air, his eyes darting over her like checking for something. "Were you wandering around here on your own?"

Penryn blew out an irritated breath and drew herself up to full height. "I could ask you the same question! I went looking for you when you didn't come back to our room. And for what? To find you in the middle of a public fight. What is wrong with you? What about not drawing attention to ourselves? Is this your definition of staying low-key?"

Raffe was shaking his head, looking agitated. "Those guys deserved it. Trust me."

"I don't care what they did to deserve a beating. We're not here for that. Actually, we shouldn't be here at all. But while I've tried to find a way out of this place, you've been busy exchanging blows with some idiots."

Raffe took a deep breath and let it out in a controlled exhale, his demeanor calming somewhat. "How did you even get out of the room?"

"I picked the lock."

"With what?"

"A bedspring."

He quirked an eyebrow at that. "Resourceful."

"Yes, I'm incredible. Can we discuss that later? After we've gotten out of this place."

Raffe looked at her, his eyes softening as they took in her face. "You're right. We should get out of here. Any minute longer we're staying here is wasted time."

Penryn sighed. "Thank god, he sees sense."

"Yeah, I do. In fact, I've already thought of a way to get out of here."

"Really?" Now that was interesting news. Still, she couldn't keep the skepticism out of her voice.

"Yes, really, you insufferable know-it-all. I've had the opportunity to look around while I was carrying supplies to and fro."

Penryn stepped closer, unable to hide her interest. She chose to ignore the rush of warmth in her belly at being this close to him. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Do talk."

"It looks like they have an alarm system here, rigged up from an old fire alarm system. From what I gathered, it's an alarm to inform of possible security breaches or a raid."

Penryn cooked her head. "And?"

His lips quirked into a little smile, though the humor didn't reach his eyes. "How do you feel about triggering a little mass panic?"

* * *

 **Man, these chapters are just getting longer and longer. I was plotting this out as a _short_ chapter, and it turned out to have more than 6k words. What the hell? Anyway, I wanted to (again) thank you for all the great reviews I recieved, I'm beyond happy to read every single one of them and that so many readers, who've been with this story since chapter 1, still seem to enjoy reading it! Gimme that feedback, guys, it pays the writer. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter,**

 **~K.**


	9. Runaway

**Runaway**

"Are we sure this is going to work?"

On the bunk next to her, Raffe sighed and folded his arms behind his head. "You got any better ideas?"

Penryn had to admit that she didn't. Still. The plan was one of the kind where a lot could go wrong. And a lot depended on things happening like they expected them to.

"What if the fire alarm doesn't actually trigger the alarm system? Maybe the alarm can only be triggered from some sort of main control room."

"They need a system that anyone who spots an intruder can use. If a patrol gets wind of a raid, there needs to be a way to raise the alarm quickly. That's the whole _point_ of an alarm."

Penryn sat up on her bunk. She was too anxious to rest anyway. "And what if the alarm shuts down all doors?"

"How would they evacuate in case of a raid?"

"Maybe the point is to keep the intruders _out_?" Her voice was irritated. She grabbed her boots.

Raffe let out a long exhale, as if fighting for patience. His voice, however, was soft when he said, "Look, Penryn, we can't know for sure what's going to happen. But right now, a distraction is our best chance at getting out of this place. And you want to get out of this place, right?"

She nodded, feeling her anger drain out of her. She didn't even know what she was angry at. Or who.  
Yet ever since she'd seen Raffe in the middle of that ring, beating a Resistance member to a pulp, she couldn't shake the resentment that was growing inside of her. It wasn't that she was sorry for the guy who'd taken the beating. It was his own fault for voluntarily participating in the fight. So why did the image affect her so much?

"Now is as good a time as ever," Raffe said and jumped off his bunk, lifting the thin mattress. He bent a bedspring upward until it broke off with irritatingly little effort. Maybe the memory of him in the ring affected her so much because it had brought back what she'd seemed to have forgotten over the last few days. That he was a soldier, ruthless and violent, trained and able to kill. To kill _her_ people.

"Time to do your little trick again." Raffe threw he bedspring to her and she caught it out of the air. She finished lacing up her boots, then slid from her bunk and crouched in front of the door, inserting her makeshift lock-pick into the lock. This time didn't take as long as yesterday and after a few moments, the mechanic lock unlocked and she slowly pushed open the door. Like last night, the hallway was empty.

"Apparently they still think a flimsy lock is enough for us," Penryn whispered, tucking the broken-off bedspring into the waistband of her pants.

"Seems like one would do good not to underestimate you." Raffe's voice was low, but she was sure that she didn't imagine the hint of approval in his tone. A warm feeling of triumph spread through her, and she internally chastised herself for it.

They made their way down the hallway, stopping at every corner to listen for guards before proceeding. They didn't even have a specific destination, just to get as close to the exit as possible before triggering the alarm.

"Well, look who's strolling around at night. _Again._ "

Penryn nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice behind her. She turned around to see two familiar redheads in the hallway behind them. They sauntered up to them, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"We were wondering if someone forgot to lock your door yesterday, or if you've been given permission to wander around. I guess now we know for sure. You two really are some troublemakers, aren't you?" Dee (or maybe it was Dum, who knew?) waggled a finger at them like a parent scolding a child.

Raffe and Penryn said nothing.

"When Obi finds out that you've managed to snuck out of your cell _twice_ already, he'll be even more eager to recruit you," Dum said.

"Assuming he doesn't kill you first."

"But we gotta hand it to you, you are resourceful." They both nodded in approval. "So what exactly is it that's got you sneaking around?"

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Penryn desperately tried to come up with an excuse, while Raffe seemed to prefer not to say anything.

Dee raised an eyebrow, lips quirked in amusement. "Well?"

 _Oh what the hell,_ Penryn thought, _they know anyway._ She sighed. "We were trying to get out of here."

Dum gave a mock gasp. "You don't say!"

Penryn shot Raffe a look, just in time to catch him roll his eyes. She looked back at the twins and gave them her most charming smile. "Look guys, it's not like this place isn't great and all, but we have something really important to do and we can't afford to waste any more time. Which is why we need to go _now_."

The twins exchanged a look. "We're not surprised. We told Fitzroy you wouldn't want to stick around. Why does no one ever listen to us?"

"Though I hope you weren't planning on simply waltzing out the front door. What's your plan?"

It was Penryn's turn to roll her eyes. "Don't get me wrong, but I don't think telling you would be the best idea."

Dee shrugged. "Well, we could turn you in either way, so why not humor us and tell us whatever genius plan you came up with?"

Penryn threw Raffe another glance, but his expression was once again unreadable. She sighed in defeat. "We wanted to trigger an alarm to cause a distraction."

Dum raised an eyebrow. "Using the old fire alarm system?"

"Yep."

"Not a bad idea, though you'd have to press the button a specific number of times to actually trigger the alarm."

"Otherwise, any prankster could do it." Dee winked at them.

Penryn felt frustration building inside her. They didn't have time for this. Why could the Resistance not simply let them go? "How do you know so much about the alarm system anyway?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Oh, if anyone knows about it, it would be us," Dum said. "After all, we rigged it up."

"You- what?"

Dee winked at her, as if the baffled tone of her voice was a compliment. "I know, impressive right? We know a thing or two about tech."

"You didn't think we were just here for our good looks, did you?"

Penryn didn't know what to say. Frankly, she hadn't put much thought into the twin's role in the Resistance yet. Seemed like these two were more important than she'd thought.

"So what now?" It was the first time Raffe had spoken since DeeDum showed up. He sounded irritated. "Will you turn us in?"

They exchanged a look. "That depends. Why are you so desperate to get out of here? Don't you want to fight for your country?"

"I already have a family that I have to fight for," Penryn cut in before Raffe could give a smartass reply. "And right now, my sister is in danger, so I really don't have time to stick around any longer." She realized that real desperation had crept into her voice.

The twins must've realized it too, because they once again exchanged a look.

"We knew you'd never stick around. It was only a question of time," Dee finally said.

Penryn felt a sliver of hope grow inside of her at the tone of their voice. "Does that mean you won't turn us in? You'll help us get out of here?"

"Ah ah ah," Dum shook his head. "We don't deal in pleasantries. They don't get you very far in the world we're living in. We can help you get out of here. But you'll owe us a favor in return."

"A favor?" Raffe asked skeptically. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, we don't know yet," Dum said. "But something tells me we'll meet again and when that happens, I'm sure there is something useful you can do for us."

Penryn looked at Raffe to see if he was just as bewildered as her, but his face was one again unreadable.

"What's the catch?" she asked.

"No catch," Dum said.

"Just a favor," Dee continued. "Some time in the near future. As an insurance for worse times to come."

Penryn gave them a skeptical look. To her, that pretty much sounded like a catch, but what choice did they have?

"Alright," she said finally. "If you help us get out of here, we owe you one."

The twin's faces split into identical grins as both of them reached out their right hand at the same time. "Excellent. We have a deal." Penryn and Raffe exchanged a look, then grasped the offered hands to seal whatever 'deal' they'd just agreed on.

"Now, let's get straight to business," Dum said. "The fastest and easiest way to get out of this place is through the air duct system. However, all access points are being monitored."

Penryn raised an eyebrow. "Does the Resistance often keep people that don't want to be here?"

Dee grinned. "Often is a relative term. But the monitoring is to make sure that no unwanted visitor gets _in_ without us knowing, not the other way around."

"So how do we get into the air duct undetected?" Raffe cut in.

"Leave that to me." Dee said. "You can follow my handsome assistant. He'll show you where you can access the air duct the easiest and I'll make sure that you get in undetected."

Dum turned to his brother. "Dude, I'm so not your assistant."

"Come on, I said you were handsome."

Penryn blew out a weary breath. "Guys, can we just go?"

Dum gave a mock bow. "Sure thing. We wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting." He motioned for them to come with him. While they followed the scrawny twin through the corridors, he quickly gave them instructions. "Listen to me, and listen good, because I'll only tell you once. When you're in the air duct, you crawl forward until you hit a crossway. Then you go right. Then forward for the next two cross-ways, then left and left again. If you're on the right track, it should get hotter, since you'll be directly next to our boiler room. Keep going forward until the fine odor of sewerage hits you. That's when you can start looking for an opening to climb out of the funnels."

They walked into the main hall, which was deserted at this time of night. The massive ventilator in the far wall was still spinning slowly, giving off a droning sound. Dum lead them through the hall toward the far wall, pointing at a small square metal grid embedded into the concrete. When they were only about half a dozen feet away, Dum suddenly stopped, holding up a hand for them.

"If we go any further, the camera's will spot us. We'll need to wait for Dee's signal to know that it's switched off." He murmured, pulling a small automatic screwdriver out of his pocket.

Penryn scanned the walls and ceiling around them. "I don't see any cameras."

Dum grinned. "Of course you don't."

"What kind of signal are we talking about?" Raffe asked.

As if on cue, the lights in the hall went out, plunging them into total darkness.

"That signal."

Penryn felt a hand grasp her wrist and then she was being pulled forward, stumbling to keep up with Dum's quick steps. A pocket light was switched on, throwing a beam of light onto the wall. Dum pushed the pocket light into Raffe's hands and quickly began to unscrew the grid that covered the air duct. "The electricity will be out for exactly 85 seconds. That's the max that we have unless we don't want an alarm to be triggered. Blackouts aren't rare down here, but for security reasons, we've installed an automatic alarm that goes off if a blackout lasts longer than one and a half minute." The grid fell to the ground with a loud _clang_. "So Dee will turn the electricity back on in exactly-" he threw a look at his watch, "35 seconds. Quick, in there." He pushed at Penryn, who quickly climbed into the narrow funnel, ignoring the throb of pain in her thigh. She scuttled forward on hands and knees, looking over her shoulder to see Raffe climb in behind her. The funnel was barely wide enough for him to fit in.

Behind them, Dum was already attaching the grid back over the opening. "Good luck," he whispered when he was finished, then the pocket light was switched off and they heard him depart with quick steps.

For a moment, neither of them moved. It was completely dark around them and Penryn was overcome by a sudden feeling of claustrophobia. Nevertheless, she began to move forward on her hands and knees.

When the electricity switched back on, they had already rounded the first corner and the only source of light in the funnel was the few beams that fell through the occasional grid in the wall. Their proceeding was maddeningly slow since they had to move as quiet as possible to not make too much noise. Most rooms that could be seen beyond the grids they passed seemed to be storage rooms or sleeping quarters, but occasionally, they passed a room where people were awake and passing the time, either working, playing cards, drinking or… Penryn blushed and quickly scuttled forward. She didn't want to linger around a grid that lead into people's private quarters.

From Dum's instructions, it had sounded as if they would be out of the funnel system within less than an hour, but the distance between the crossways stretched endlessly long. They fell into a somewhat mindless routine, crawling forward on hands and knees, one hand on the wall to feel for any corners or crossways.

It was only when Penryn felt a bead of sweat drip from her chin that she realized how hot it had gotten. She paused. "Do you feel that?" she whispered over her shoulder. She could barely make out Raffe's silhouette in the darkness, but his presence was heavy behind her, somewhat calming.

"We must be close to the boiler room," he murmured. She nodded, then realized that he couldn't see it in the darkness. "Let's keep going."

They continued forward and sure enough, soon they passed a grid behind which they could make out a sparsely lit boiler room. Penryn peeked into the room, eyeing the various machines that stood in the room, some of which she'd never seen before. "This doesn't just look like a boiler room," she whispered. "I wonder what those other things are."

Before Raffe could answer, the door in the room opened, and a Resistance member entered, followed by a tired looking Fitzroy. Penryn flinched and drew back from the grid.

"The rations won't last much longer," the guy with her said. "Even if we cut them in half, we'll need to stock up soon."

"We're almost done with the logistics of the Port Pinkton hit. If it's a success, we'll get plenty of supplies. We just need a few more days to smooth over the last details."

Penryn suddenly felt cold, despite the heat. Port Pinkton was a private harbor in the Northern District, mainly used by merchant ships in private property. Anyone wealthy enough to afford a ship in that harbor either had excellent connections to the Guardians, or was Guardian themselves. If the Resistance planned a hit on Port Pinkton, it could mean some serious damage to the Guardian's stock import. Not to mention their trading relationships. But there were civilians in that harbor as well, privileged, ignorant civilians who turned their heads away from the problems and injustices happening in less wealthy parts of the city, but civilians nonetheless.

She took a deep breath and began to crawl forward again. No point thinking about that now. She had to get out of here, hold up her part of the bargain and then find her sister. And maybe then she would allow herself the luxury of thinking about other people's problems.

They kept moving in silence. Penryn had lost her sense of time in the darkness. Her shirt was soaked through with sweat, the humid air pressing against her head, and her palms and knees were scraped raw from crawling on all fours for so long. But they kept moving forward. And forward. And forward. Until finally, the stank of waste-water and excreta hit them. Penryn never thought she'd be happy at the smell of that, but now she actually let out a sigh of relief. She stopped in front of the next grid, peeking out. Beyond, she saw nothing but dark canalization tunnels. "Think it's safe to go out?" she asked.

"We can't be sure. But I'd say we're faster on foot."

She nodded, pushing against the grid. As expected, it was screwed shut.

"Let me," Raffe said and she moved forward to give him space. He gripped the metal grid, shook it once as if to test it, then pushed against it forcefully. It fell into the wastewater below.

Raffe climbed out of the opening, then helped Penryn out of it. Her boots landed in ankle high wastewater, splashing against her pants. _Well, now isn't the time to get squeamish,_ she thought.

"How is your leg?" Raffe asked her unexpectedly.

"It's better. It barely hurts anymore."

Raffe nodded. "We'll have to keep walking for at least a few more hours."

"Then we should get moving."

Wading through wastewater wasn't exactly pleasant, but it was better than continuing to crawl through narrow air funnels, so Penryn wasn't complaining. Raffe lead the way, as confidently as if he knew where they were going and she was too exhausted to question it.

Hours passed in which neither of them said a word, and slowly, a fog of numbness spread over her mind, emptying her head. She just walked.  
She was bone-wary, an exhaustion that reached deeper than normal tiredness. They passed a ladder that lead up to a manhole cover and Raffe stopped. "We should get up here."

Without waiting for her answer, he pulled himself up on the ladder, quickly climbing up the steps. Penryn watched as he pushed against the cover, lifting it slowly to peek outside. Whatever he saw must've satisfied him, because he pushed it fully open now and climbed out. She followed him quickly, eager to leave the canalization behind. Her head popped out of the manhole, her nose suddenly filling with a gush of fresh air – well as fresh as the air got in the city – and she saw that they had come up in an abandoned alley. Perfect.

"What luck, huh?" She said as she stood up and Raffe closed the manhole cover again. He nodded and looked around. Even without reading a street sign, it was obvious that they were close to their destination. The walls left and right of them were clean and free of soot like they only were in the Northern District. The usual cover of garbage was missing, just as the unsavory characters lounging around in alleys. Which was good because it meant that Azabu Boulevard couldn't be too far. However, it brought up a new problem.

"We can't walk around looking like this," Penryn said, gesturing to their tattered and dirty clothes. "Not in the Northern District. We'll stand out like a sore thumb."

"That is a problem," Raffe agreed.

He and Penryn walked toward the main street that the alley opened onto. Penryn scanned the shops and cafés that lined the street, her gaze catching onto a chick dress shop on a corner. "Don't worry," she murmured, an idea forming in her mind. "I think I got us covered."

* * *

"I see you've done this before."

Penryn ignored Raffe as she crouched in front of the shop's back door, glad that the large containers in the alley hid them from the main street. They had successfully made their way across the main street and into the narrow alley next to the dress shop without being called out for their appearance. As expected, they had found a back door to the shop in the alley, probably a delivery entrance that lead to the storage room. It was absolutely perfect.

She felt Raffe crouch behind her, ducking behind the cover of the container, and his sudden closeness made her back tingle. "How long do you need to pick that lock?" Raffe whispered.

"Longer than it would take me if you wouldn't distract me," she murmured back and didn't have to look at him to know that he was rolling his eyes. She turned back to the lock. They were in luck. The door was secured with a barrel lock, not with a code or hand scanner. This one was a type she'd seen many times before on other shops in this District, and she was familiar with the process of picking it. By now, she had the motions down in her cerebellum and so it didn't take her much more than a couple of minutes until the lock gave a barely audible _click_ that indicated that the door was now open.

She stood and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't know if this particular skill makes you resourceful or just a common criminal," Raffe said.

"Well, without this skill we'd still be stuck in the Resistance, so…" She grinned at him.

"Come on." Raffe pushed the door open a crack and paused, cocking his head to listen. He'd proven excellent hearing over the last days, so Penryn said nothing and waited. "Sounds like no one is close," he said finally and pushed the door open fully.

Behind it – as expected – lay a storage room, larger than the front of the shop had let believe. Countless racks and shelves ran through the room, boxes piling in large stacks. Raffe silently closed the door behind them.

Penryn didn't waste any time and quickly began opening boxes and scanning the contents for anything wearable that would help them blend it. As customary for the upper classes, female fashion consisted mostly of elegant shirtwaist dresses, A-Line skirts and all sorts of expensive fabrics. While Penryn didn't mind putting on a dress or a skirt, it wasn't exactly practical in case they had to run or fight their way out of a situation, and so she was relieved when she found a box with simple navy blue women's slacks. It didn't take long to find a plain blouse that would go with them, and while she was at it, she grabbed a pair of underwear as well (with a sneaky look at Raffe to make sure he didn't notice). Most importantly, she found a jacket that felt thick enough to protect her from the cold.

It was only when she had her full outfit assembled, that she realized that there was no space to change in private. She turned to Raffe, who held a few items in his hands as well.

"Alright, I guess we should change…" she murmured. Raffe nodded. She looked around, well aware that she would have to strip completely naked to change her underwear as well.

"Don't worry, I'll turn around," Raffe said dryly, and her face heated up against her will. He seemed to notice, because his eyes lit up with amusement. "I won't look." He sounded sincere enough, but she saw the teasing smile he tried to stifle.

She huffed. "You better not!"

She caught his low chuckle as he turned around and for a moment she just stood there, glaring at the back of his head, before she remembered that they were standing in the storage room of a shop they'd just broken into, and someone could come in and catch them any time. Also, Raffe didn't seem to be prissy about undressing in front of her, because he unceremoniously pulled his shirt over his head, baring his muscular back. He threw the shirt onto the ground and moved on to open his pants. That made Penryn snap out of it and she quickly turned around, cheeks burning. She hastily stripped off her clothes and changed into the new ones. The pants fit surprisingly well, the legs wide enough to hide most of her boots, which surely didn't fit the rest of the chic outfit. She tugged her white blouse into the high waistband of the pants and turned around.

Raffe was already fully dressed but he still had his back to her and she realized that he was waiting for her to confirm that she was fully dressed.

"I'm done," she said.

"Alright," he said and turned around. He had chosen simple dark pants and had put on a dark coat that looked great on him. Other than her, he didn't look out of place in expensive clothes, but rather as if they'd been tailored specifically for him.

Penryn nodded. "Good choice." She looked up at his face and saw that he was running his eyes over her as well.

"You too," he said. There was something in his voice that made her feel awkward for some reason.

"Well, I guess we're good to go like this," she muttered.

In that moment, the door at the end of the storage room opened and a clerk entered the storage, arms full of dresses. Penryn and Raffe looked at each other in a moment of shock. The woman hadn't yet noticed them, but she would only have to come around the shelf to spot them. Quickly, Penryn scooped the heap of discarded clothes from the floor and stuffed them into the nearest box, before Raffe pulled her into a small nook behind a particularly tall stack of boxes.

Wedged between the boxes and the wall, there was barely enough place for one person, let alone for a man of Raffe's size. They stood pressed together, peeking through gaps between the boxes to watch as the clerk made her way through the storage, carefully hanging clothes on racks or putting them into boxes.

Penryn tried to ignore Raffe's presence behind her, but it was difficult, with his warm breath fanning across her neck and her back tingling from his closeness. She felt goosebumps erupt over her skin and suppressed a shiver.

She almost thought that they'd successfully evaded being caught, when the clerk suddenly made a beeline for the stack of boxes they were hiding behind. Penryn recoiled from the gap she'd been peeping through, instinctively drawing back and bumping into Raffe, who was still standing soundlessly behind her. He put a steadying hand on her waist as she faltered.

The clerk began rummaging through a box at the front of the stack. Penryn held her breath. The woman was only a foot away from them, and half a dozen boxes weren't the best cover. She drew back as much as possible, which wasn't much with the limited space that they had. The entire length of her back was already pressed against Raffe. Who, she realized now, still had his hand on her waist, his touch firm and warm through the thin material of her blouse. Her pulse was pounding in her ears.

The clerk still wasn't done. Surely she was taking longer with these boxes than she had with the others? Raffe fidgeted ever so slightly behind her, his movement brushing against her. Penryn felt like she was ready to explode with tension when the clerk finally turned away, walking briskly back to the shop with her arms full of new clothes.

Penryn started to get out of their hideout, but Raffe tugged her back against him. "Wait!" He was so close that he whispered directly into her ear. "She's still in the room."

Penryn strained to hear. He was right. She could hear the gentle sound of rustling fabric, though she never would've picked it up without Raffe's warning. Once again, he had demonstrated shearing well above average for a human. She wanted to mull over that fact, but it was hard to concentrate with Raffe standing close enough that she could feel his body heat against her back.

They heard the door clicking shut. They waited a few more seconds and when no sounds could be heard, Penryn quickly stepped out of their hide-out. She turned around to Raffe, who stepped out behind her. "That was close."

He nodded. For a moment they looked at each other, a somewhat awkward silence stretching between them. She still felt his warmth against her back, remembered how solid and strong he had felt. Her skin tingled where his fingers had curled around her waist.

She cleared her throat. "We should get going." Without waiting for an answer, she pulled on her new jacket and turned away. With her back to Raffe, she could think more clearly. His heavy gaze on her made her thoughts tangle. And she couldn't afford to lose her wits.

She pushed through the door, welcoming the burst of cold air against her face.

* * *

 **Happy New Year everyone! I hope you had a happy time over the holidays and a good start into the new year. My apologies for the long waiting time for this chapter (again), somehow my chappies always turn out so much longer than I plan. I'm happy that there are still people interested in reading this story - and leave me feedback for my updates - because I'm not planning on giving up on Black Night, White Light. So it's nice to see that there are still people who want to read it ;)**

 **Unless you don't want to read more, I'd love for you to tell me your thoughts on my newest update. Writing these chapters is actually pretty time-consuming (and that's not even counting the editing time) and can be quite challenging to manage alongside university, so reading your feedback is my reward.**

 **As always, I hope you enjoyed**

 **~K.**


	10. 230 Azabu Boulevard

**230 Azabu Boulevard  
**

 _I've been here before,_ Penryn mused as they passed an exclusive-looking shop. Though the street didn't look the same in the dark, Penryn recognized the dark green window-frames and the ornate gold letters above the door. The break-in hadn't been very fruitful, especially considering how difficult it had been to pick the elaborate lock without getting caught by a patrol. She felt a grin tug on the corner of her mouth. She'd almost consider those reckless memories 'good times'. But then, that would be romanticizing the past, really.

A sharp gust of wind whipped her hair around her face, and she drew her jacket tighter around her, suppressing a shiver. "I miss my coat," she murmured.

Raffe turned up the collar of his coat against the cold air. "It shouldn't be far anymore. Let's hope that whatever awaits us, it'll at least be warm."

A couple of hours had passed since they had changed their outfits. They probably would've gotten to Azabu Boulevard faster, but when they had strolled past a large household supply store, they hadn't passed up on the opportunity to get some knives. Since they were out of cash money and didn't want to risk being tracked through paying online, Penryn had put her pickpocketing skills to use and slipped two wicked-looking steak knives into the waistband of her pants. She was more used to doing these things at night, when the shops were closed, but it turned out that it was almost easier at day. All it took was a corner of the shop that the surveillance cameras didn't cover, and Raffe to distract the vendor with an easy smile and charming words, and they'd been the proud new owners of two high-quality German steak knives. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but with Raffe as a distraction, her chances of getting caught by a young saleswoman were a lot lower. In fact, she doubted that the woman had even noticed her presence while she had enthusiastically answered every of Raffe's questions with pink cheeks.

Now, Penryn threw her partner in crime a sidelong glance as he walked next to her. His face was set in stone, unbetraying of any emotion. "What do you think awaits us?"

He shrugged, not looking at her. "I should ask you. You're the expert for illegal weapon trade."

Penryn didn't respond for a moment. She mulled over her next words, trying to find a way to relieve herself of the question that was burning in the back of her mind without giving away too much. "What happens when you get your weapon back?" she finally asked.

She caught Raffe throwing her a look. "You mean what happens when you've fulfilled your end of the bargain?"

She nodded.

"Well, the deal was your help for my information, right? So I'll access the internal Guardian databases for you and see if I can find out something about your sister's whereabouts."

 _And then?_ She almost said the words. Almost. But there was no use in asking. There was no _then_ for them. From the very beginning of their very unusual partnership, it had been clear to both of them that this arrangement would be temporary. And sooner or later, whatever weird thing they'd built up between the two of them would come to an end.

Penryn let her eyes travel idly over the tasteful façade lining the street. She wondered what it would be like to go back to being enemies after all this was over. Whether she liked it or not, in the past few weeks she had grown accustomed to this Guardian at her side, and it frightened her how easily she'd fallen into a routine of trusting him to have her back in crisis. What would happen if she was caught by a patrol during a raid one day and he'd be among them? Would he shoot her without hesitation?

 _Of course he would._ The rational part of her almost scoffed at her line of thinking. If she wasn't able to form temporary partnerships without turning into a dewy-eyed amateur, she wouldn't survive another week in the Southern District.

"There!" Raffe's voice interrupted her train of thoughts. He pointed to a street sign on the corner to their left. "Azabu Boulevard. We're there."

He stopped just before they rounded the corner and faced her. "So, is this where we'll meet the client? Or another middle man?"

"I don't know. All Kalif gave us was an address. And I still don't know why she did that in the first place."

A line formed between Raffe's eyebrows as he looked into the distance. "We could be walking right into a trap. In fact, we should be prepared for that to be the case."

"What sort of trap would that be? If Kalif wanted to catch us, why would she let us leave the 'House of Pleasure' at all? She could've easily captured us on her own territory."

Raffe's gaze met hers, his eyes thoughtful. "I don't know what kind of game is played here," he said. He sounded as if he wasn't happy about that. "But I will take back what's rightfully mine."

Penryn cocked her head. She wondered if that really was all there was to it. All this trouble for a gun? Surely, such a high-ranking Guardian would have the money to purchase a new weapon, no matter how advanced it was. Raffe took in her face with a slightly annoyed look as if he knew what she was thinking about.

"If this really is a trap, I don't think I'll be very useful to you with my injured leg. I can handle myself in a fight, but I can't run."

"Making sure that I don't abandon you?" A cynical tone had crept into his voice. "Don't worry. I won't leave you behind."

Penryn nodded. "I wouldn't have expected you to." She guessed this was the closest to admitting to having each other's backs as they could get. And for some reason unbeknownst to her, she believed him.

* * *

230 Azabu Boulevard turned out to be an old office building, it's glass and chrome front hiding the abandoned rooms behind. A sign on the front doors declared that the building had been confiscated by the government.

They pushed through the front doors and entered a dimly-lit entrance hall, dust corns dancing in the few rays of light that fell through the boarded-up windows. The place seemed completely empty. Penryn coughed against the dusty air. "I sure hope we don't have to search every floor. This building has like 20 levels. And I doubt the elevator is working."

Raffe ignored her and crossed the hall to a glass door that lead to a stairway. "Come on," he called to her over his shoulder.

The stairway was completely dark, the only source of light coming from above their heads, roughly five floors up. Penryn and Raffe exchanged a look. "We'll probably have to go there," Penryn whispered.

"You think?"

She rolled her eyes and moved to go up the stairs, but Raffe caught her arm and pulled her wordlessly behind him. He silently moved up the stairs, Penryn trailing closely behind him. The silence and darkness created an eerie atmosphere and she found herself quickening her steps to stay close to him. The last thing she wanted was loosing him in the dark and ending up all on her own in this building.

They reached the sixth floor, where warm light fell through a window in a door, illuminating the stairway. Raffe stopped on the last step and peered through the window. "I can't see anyone," he murmured after a few moments.

"Do we just go in?"

He shrugged. "I don't see any alternative." He pulled out the steak knife from the waist band of his pants and pushed through the door, Penryn following suit. She looked around. They were standing in a nondescript hallway, several closed doors leading to what was probably office rooms. Raffe slowly walked down the hallway, trying each door knob as they passed it. The doors were all locked. Penryn repressed the impulse to speak up. The silence was pushing down on her. Yet, she didn't think it was smart to announce their presence if anyone was waiting for them.

Raffe stopped in front of her, holding out a hand. He looked back at her and nodded toward a set of double doors a few feet away from them. Judging by the look on his face, he'd heard something. He moved toward the door, and Penryn was yet again astounded by his agility and stealth. She was a pretty small girl, with fleet feet and the ability to move unheard and unseen if she wanted to, but it was impressive that a guy who must've been at least 6'6 feet tall was able to move just as silently as her. Or maybe it wasn't that impressive after all, considering his military training.

They stopped in front of the doors and Raffe put his ear against the wood, listening intently. When he didn't seem to hear anything, he cracked open the door an inch. No light fell through the slit. He opened the door far enough to peer into the room, then fully pushed it open, revealing an empty conference room. Penryn followed him into the room, leaving the door open to hear if anyone was approaching. The room was large and mostly empty, safe for a few chairs that had been pushed against the wall. Penryn suspected that the main space of the room had once been taken up by a large table, but now all that remained of the furniture was a bar at the far end, a few bottles and glasses lined up. She was surprised by how clean and dust-free they looked. Before she had time to inspect them, the overhead lights suddenly turned on, harsh against her eyes after being in the half-dark for so long. Penryn reflexively closed her eyes, but forced herself to open them again.

A man stood in the doorway, wearing an immaculate dress uniform, his light brown hair styled back neatly with gel. He appeared to be in his mid-forties and his entire posture seemed relaxed as he idly fixed the cuffs of his dress shirt. Judging from the look on his face, one could have almost mistaken him as benevolent. Almost.

Penryn hadn't expected to be greeted by someone who was an alley. What really scared her was the shiny emblem pinned to the chest of his uniform, just one amongst many, but the only one that she cared about. The one that identified him as a Guardian. And by the looks of it, a high-ranking one at that. Fear made her chest tighten. She could handle underground dealers. _This_ she wasn't prepared for.

She snuck a glance of Raffe, to see if he knew the new arrival. His face portrayed grim surprise and his body had visibly tensed up. Yeah, they were in trouble.

"Raphael," the man said, making an elaborate sweep with his arms as if to welcome them. "I'd honestly expected you sooner. My men spotted you just three blogs away hours ago. But well, better late than never."

"What are you doing here, Uriel?" Raffe's voice was dangerously low.

Uriel's lips quirked. "Come on, you said yourself you should expect a trap."

"Consorting with underground dealers now? I shouldn't be surprised. Sounds like your style."

Uriel's smile broadened, though his eyes glinted with suppressed anger. "There's no need to consort with anyone, if you're in control of them. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to make deals with any of that scum?"

"You're in control of Kalif?" Penryn said disbelievingly. "With all the power she holds? I doubt that."

His eyes slid to her, his mouth twisting into what looked like an expression of mild disgust, like someone who had to bother getting rid of a spider. "No, little waif, we're not _in control_ of her. We _are_ her. Kalif does not exist. She's a myth to give your people the illusion of having a shred of dignity, of autonomy left. It's pointless trying to halt underground businesses and black markets. Especially when you can simply draw a profit from it."

Penryn sucked in a breath. Immediately, something inside her wanted to deny what he'd said. That it had to be a lie. But why would it be? It made sense, if she thought about it. Controlling the hub of the city's underground activities, instead of trying to shut it down, was a pretty smart move. What she didn't understand was how they'd manage to establish all of Kalif's influence and power without anyone getting behind their little trick.

Before she could dwell on it further, Uriel turned back to Raffe. "I didn't come here to have conversation with an urchin. Raphael, I think we have business to attend to."

Raffe quirked an eyebrow. "Do we? I already suspected that you were behind the attack on me, but I don't see how there could be any business between us. Why not just kill me?"

Uriel made a dismissive gesture. "I don't want to kill you. What good would that do me? I had high hopes that you'd know about Gabriel's whereabouts, but apparently even his poster child isn't in on all of his moves."

"Gabriel? What's he to do with anything? I figured Beliel just wanted him to take revenge, but I doubt that that's your motivation. Or that you're concerned for Gabriel's well-beings. What could a politician like you possibly want with a geneticist?"

Uriel began to slowly walk around the room, like a teacher giving a lecture to a student. "Did you know that the ALT1 program was halted? In the middle of the procedures for an entire class of recruits. You know what happens when the procedures aren't completed. We could lose our best students of an entire year."

Raffe scoffed. "As if that's any of your concern. You have nothing to do with the program."

Uriel stopped and turned fully to them. "But I _could._ Who's to say that Gabriel is the only one able to perform the enhancements? He runs a monopoly on his methods, and made our entire military dependent on his person. Don't you think that's awfully egoistic? He's received all the power and praise for a scientific break-through that he should've shared with the rest of us a long time ago. Now he's gone and left the rest of us hanging. If someone else was to pick up what he started, it would be the best for our entire society."

Penryn didn't understand half of what he'd said. She glanced at Raffe, who was frowning. "So that's what you're up to? You want to replicate Gabriel's results to distinguish yourself?" He seemed to think for a moment. "I guess that could earn you your long-awaited seat in the Junta. But you're not a geneticist. What makes you think you can do it?"

"I'm not a geneticist, but I have a team of great scientists and enough money to fund the research. Because I'm willing to invest that for the good of our people."

Raffe snorted. "Right. And why exactly am I here now? I don't see how any of this has something to do with me."

Uriel pinned him with a look. "I expected you to be able to tell us about Gabriel's whereabouts, but your _conversation_ with Beliel went different than I expected. Granted, he might have taken it a little too far. But I'm here to offer you a deal. You've always been the poster child for the program, and you excelled in every situation that has presented itself in your military career. Since we don't have many records to work from, I think that you could be of great help. After all, you've experienced the procedures first-hand. And think of it. Ultimately, it would be for the greater good if we'd be able to replicate Gabriel's results."

Raffe was silent for a moment. Then, his lips quirked up in a sardonic smile. "So, what you're telling me is that you originally planned to have Beliel torture me for information and then kill me, but since he was unable to do so, you're now trying to talk me into being your personal lab rat with this sad excuse of working for the greater good? I know we're not close, but you should know me better than this. I'm a soldier, not a pawn in your political play."

Uriel sighed. "I was afraid you'd see things like that. What would you say if I'd offer to personally restore your reputation and hand you back your gun, your emblems and your bike?"

"What would you say if I'd offer you to personally rearrange your face?"

Uriel shook his head, like a disappointed parent. "There's no need to be hostile." As on cue, half a dozen men appeared behind him, armed with rifles which were currently pointed at Raffe and Penryn. They swarmed into the room and formed a circle around them. Penryn recognized the one next to Uriel as Raffe's attacker, Beliel. She sucked in a trembling breath, fear tightening her lungs. There was no way they could get out of a situation like that. She had no doubt that Raffe was a skilled fighter, and she could handle herself in a fight as well, but this was six armed men against the two of them with a pair of steak knives. She closed her eyes and imagined the faces of her family. If she died now, what would become of Paige?

"What now?" Despite the half dozen guns pointed at them, Raffe sounded calm. "You'll kill us like the laughable cliché of a corrupted politician that you are?"

"No." Penryn was surprised by the determination in Uriel's voice. "As much as I'd like to have you out of my way, killing you wouldn't be a smart move. Sure, I'd probably find a way to cover up your death, but you're infamous among the military, and your death could cause a commotion. Not to mention an investigation that I don't have time for." He gave a lenient smile. "That's an awful lot of trouble for a deserter who's on the run from his own people. As popular as you are, you know the procedure with public enemies. And since you're known for your extraordinary skills, I'll have the best team to take care of the job."

Penryn looked at Raffe, who was glaring hatefully at Uriel. He grinded his teeth so hard that she could see the muscles twitch in his cheek. "You think my own men will buy that shit? They know me. They know I'd never desert."

"They're not in the position to question commands from higher-ups. Not to mention that they have no reason to think that we're lying to them. Plus, there is plenty of proof. We found your gun, the tracker removed, you left behind your bike, didn't contact us in days. There are several recordings of you consorting with known criminals of Jonum. And, I'm afraid, half a dozen witnesses that saw you flee when Beliel here-" he motioned to the mass of muscle next to him, "caught you in the Northern District and asked you to surrender." He looked at Raffe with an expression full of scorn. "As soon as you step outside this building, I will declare you an outlaw and the hunt will be on. It's your choice. Take your chances and try to get away, or refuse and die right now." He shrugged. "It's up to you."

Raffe looked around, assessing his opponents, and like Penryn, he seemed to come to the conclusion that there was no way they could win in a fight against six armed soldiers. He turned back to Uriel, his eyes full of disgust. "We'll see each other again," he said icily. "And the next time, I'll make you regret you ever crossed me."

Uriel pulled a cigar box out of the inside box of his jacket and took out a cigar. "We're done here. Beliel, escort our guests out. We don't want them to get lost." He put a cigar in between his teeth.

"What about the girl?" Beliel asked.

Uriel paused on his way to the door and turned, looking Penryn up and down. "Leave her alive, for all I care. She's just a street rat. If anything, her presence will back up our story of Raphael having turned his back on our society." With that, he walked out the door, his stance relaxed as if he'd just finished a business meeting.

The men behind them moved closer, until they were only an arm's length away, aiming their rifles directly at their backs. Beliel shot Raffe a nasty grin. "Come on, I'll show you outside."

For a moment, they remained frozen to the ground, neither of them sure what to do. Penryn was frantically trying to think of a way to turn the situation around, but the nudge of a barrel in her back quickly ended her musings. She stumbled forward, walking behind Raffe who was following Beliel out the door. He led them down the staircase, not speaking to them, just sneering at Raffe. It was only when they were in the entrance hall, that Beliel fully turned to them and spoke up. "Look at you, Raphael. All your elitist demeanor, they way you and the rest of your men looked down on us. As if you're naturally _better_ than us." He scoffed. "What good does it do you now? You're nothing but a criminal anymore. And soon, anything that distinguishes you from the rest of us will be available to every soldier in the military. Nobody will talk about you anymore. You'll be remembered as nothing but a pathetic traitor."

Penryn knew it wasn't smart to speak up, but she couldn't take it anymore. She had listened the last half an hour, her hatred building up, and she couldn't keep it in any longer. "Who are you calling pathetic here? Do you even believe your own words?" She basically spitted out the words. "You call him a traitor, but you're nothing but a coward yourself."

Beliel turned to her, for the first time really looking at her. "Why you decided to pick up a street waif is beyond me. But you'd do good to get used to such company. Soon, a worthless thing like that is going to be the only company you'll have."

"I'm not worthless." Penryn hissed. She could feel Raffe tense up next to her.

Beliel actually grinned. "Well, aren't you a little spitfire?" He sauntered closer to her. Raffe pulled her behind him, but Beliel's grin only widened. "What, don't tell me you're playing hero? Move out of my way or my men will splatter your girl's brain over the wall." To enforce his words, the soldier behind Penryn pressed the barrel of his rifle against the back of her head. She froze in fear. Beliel walked around Raffe. Raffe looked at her, his face pale and taught, but couldn't move due to the predicament that she was in.

The pressure of the rifle disappeared from the back of her head, but it didn't comfort her much, because now Beliel was nudging up her chin with the barrel of his own weapon.

"Hmm," he hummed. "Aren't you a pretty little thing? Though you have a bit of a big mouth, don't you? Maybe that's why Raphael likes to keep you around." His eyes slid over her, and Penryn felt her skin crawl. He reached up and brushed the knuckles of his hand over her cheek. Despite herself, she flinched from his touch. "Are you afraid now, little pet?"

"Leave her alone," Raffe's voice was full of rage, so raw and dark that Beliel actually took a step back. He yanked up his rifle again and pointed it at Raffe. "Enough chitchat. It's time for the two of you to be on your way." The soldiers behind them shoved Penryn and Raffe toward the exit.

"I wish you the best of luck," Beliel said tauntingly. "If your men are as good as you always bragged, it shouldn't take long for them to find you."

Penryn looked at Raffe, who was giving Beliel a long, murderous glare. Beliel seemed to fidget under his hostile stare, but he waved his gun toward the front doors. "Last warning."

Raffe took Penryn by the arm and pulled her in front of him as they walked toward the exit, so that he was in between her and the soldiers behind them. If they were still in the Southern District, and dealing with Black Market merchants instead of armed soldiers, she'd never allow herself to look like she was dependent on someone else's protection. But they weren't in the Southern District anymore, and Penryn wasn't naïve enough to think that it would do her any good now to act tough. So she just walked out the front doors, Raffe close on her heels, even though every inch of her body wanted to refuse the orders of these Guardians. She pushed through the doors, for once welcoming the sting of the cold air against her face. She turned to Raffe, but he just tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her with him. "Come on," he said quietly. "We have to get out of here."

* * *

It seemed almost too trivial to just take a train to get to the outer edge of the city, but Penryn guessed that it was as good as any transportation they had now. Whether they took public transportation or travelled by foot, it shouldn't take very long for someone with access to the whole surveillance system to find them.

"I have to get out of the city." Raffe murmured. He'd rarely spoken since they left the building, and so Penryn turned away from the window, where she'd watched the city fly by, to him. "Out of the city?"

"At least for a while." Raffe's eyes looked far away. His face was a controlled mask, as hard to read as always, but Penryn was sure that she could see deep trouble in his eyes.

"There's nothing around the city for dozens of miles. Jonum City might be a huge, crowded place, but there sure isn't much else surrounding it."

He nodded. "Which is why it's a perfect place for me to stay low for a bit. Figure out what to do next." He turned to her. "You should do the same. Lie low, I mean. Don't attract attention and you have the best chances that they will just forget about you. You've heard Uriel. To them, you're just a citizen, whose word doesn't hold any power." His voice took on a sterner tone. "But _don't_ take any risks. Make any big moves, and they won't hesitate to eliminate you."

Something inside her resisted at his words, pulled her insides together almost painfully. "What?" It was all that came out. She struggled for words for a moment, then quickly gathered her wits. "What do you mean, I should _lie low_? My sister is still missing, in case you've forgotten. I have to find her. What about our _deal_?" Her voice had risen during her speech, and another passenger in train cabin looked at them with mild interest.

Raffe clenched his jaw, his eyes swirling with emotions that she couldn't read. "Look, I know that we've had a deal. But they will have cut my access to the system by now. The only thing I can do now is trying to set things straight with my people. Once I do that, I will find out what I can about your sister's whereabouts and let you know it."

"She doesn't have that much time!" Penryn didn't care anymore who might overhear their conversation. Panic was seizing her, her only chance of finding out about Paige's fate slipping away in front of her eyes.

She almost flinched when Raffe suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, but his grip wasn't painful. If anything, he steadied her. "Look at me." His voice held so much determination that she automatically did what he asked. Her eyes found his, and the intensity of his gaze made her still.

"You're better off without me now that a whole team of elite soldiers is on my heels. These are my men. I might have a chance of convincing them to listen to me before they shoot me. But they have no reason to hesitate shooting you on sight." His voice was quiet, but insistent.

"You're leaving?" She almost said _me_. She bit her tongue so hard that she could taste blood. God forbid those words ever left her mouth. _Focus,_ she told herself.

Raffe didn't answer at first. He looked at her, his eyes slowly travelling over her face. His gaze lingered on her lips for a moment, but when he looked back up at her eyes, Penryn felt like she'd imagined it. So that didn't stop the warmth that spread out in her chest. She took a breath to root herself in the here and now.

"I'm going off at the next stop." He said. His voice was so low that it felt like he'd said something intimate and personal to her. She suppressed the urge to hold him back. What use was there? Like he'd said, there was little he could do to help her right now. So where was the point in staying together?

Raffe hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. "Good Luck," he finally said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. Then he let go and got up, grabbing his jacket from the seat. He didn't look back at her as he pulled it on and turned around, walking briskly toward the doors.

Penryn watched him, feeling like there was something she should say, but didn't know what. She watched as he disappeared through the exit, the doors closing behind him. Through the window, she saw his tall form cut through the crowd on the platform, dominantly moving through the tightly packed bodies. She followed him with her eyes until he descended down the stairs and she couldn't see him anymore. The train started picking up speed again, and only now did she realize that she didn't even know which stop to get out.

With a sigh, she slumped back in her seat. She felt empty. It wasn't like she'd really had a plan before, but now it felt like the last shred of hope had been taken away from her. She allowed herself one minute to close her eyes and let all her fears wash over her. Then, she took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her seat.

Her sister was still missing. She had to find out what had happened to her and help her. That was the only thing that mattered now. And wallowing in self-pity wouldn't do her any good.

She grabbed her jacket and threw a look at the train map on the wall in front of her. If Raffe couldn't access the Guardian data base for her, she'd have to find someone else to hack into it for her. And she knew someone who just maybe was able to help her with that.

She pulled on her jacket with a new surge of determination. It was time to find DeeDum again.

* * *

 **Soo, I know it's been such a long time! I honestly don't know if anyone's still out there, interested in this story, but if so, give me a sign of live, folks, so that I know whether or not there is still demand for updates. I revised and digitalized my entire plotting for this story, and I've also been terribly busy with lots of organizational stuff for Medschool, so my personal life got a little in the way *le sigh*. But enough of my lame excuses, I'm really sorry that it took so long for me to update. I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, but I'm looking forward to things to come. And don't worry, Raffe and Penryn won't stay seperated for long ;)**

 **Let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed!**

 **~K.**


End file.
